Harry Potter and the Scaled Mother
by jukehero461
Summary: Harry is convinced he's going to die as he waits to start the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament, and looking back on his life... he's not happy with how it turned out. When he receives advice from an unexpected source, well, what's a pissed off savior to do? Mild Dumbledore and Ron bashing.
1. Not Your Average Task

Just a little one-shot; based on multiple fics where Harry can speak to a certain scaled opponent in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

I do not own Harry Potter, which is a good thing, because it'd get VERY strange. :P

* * *

He was going to die.

Harry paced in the champions tent. The First Task of the thrice-damned Tri-Wizard Tournament was already underway, and from the sounds he kept hearing the other champions had nearly finished their attempts.

He was going to die.

He stared morosely at the tiny Hungarian Horntail he'd pulled from the bag, prowling back and forth on a cushioned bench. Of course the Harry Potter luck had to kick in now, giving him the meanest, most ill-tempered dragon, if the dozens of books Hermione had shoved at him were even slightly correct.

He was going to _die._

He thumped his head against the wooden beam holding the tent up. At least Hermione hadn't abandoned him. For all that she was bossy, abrasive, and took criticism like Snape gave points (rarely and with ill grace), at least she had believed him, trusted him, unlike a certain red-headed prat! Ron was probably in the stands thinking Harry had a plan, was going for the glory.

Well _bugger_ the gods-damned glory! He'd had fame, fortune and glory for three years now and what had that gotten him? The Dark Wanker trying to kill him at least three times now, a fugitive godfather, _Snape_ as a teacher, and he still had to live with the Dursleys!

He was going to _die._

A broom. That's all his plan amounted to, like he was trying to steal the quaffle from a particularly angry Keeper. What had he been thinking? It'd probably swat him out of the air like a gnat!

For the first time since the start of the tournament he felt tears roll down his face. He couldn't take this anymore. Maybe he could quit. Maybe the goblet would recognize he didn't put his name in?

Maybe he could live without magic at all…

He sighed. No. Magic was the only thing that he truly enjoyed anymore. Despite everyone at Hogwarts doing their level best to ruin it for him. Between adults that either didn't listen or abused him, children that were even worse, fair-weather friends like Ron, and the twinkly-eyed bastard that hadn't been able to get him out of this… greatest wizard of the age his arse. He might be a little bitter.

But more importantly, _he was going to die._

He heard a fierce roar of approval from the crowd and nearly collapsed to his knees as Bagman's voice carried into the tent. This was it.

His mind went numb for the few minutes before Bagman's peacocking reached into the tent again. Slumping, he trod out of the tent into the arena.

It was a scene from a nightmare. Scorched earth all around, thousands of eyes on him, and there…

His breath caught. The damn lizard was HUGE.

It had to be eight tonnes of muscle at least, thrashing about in the center of the field, spiked tail lashing everywhere and shattering boulders with each agitated, furious pass, even as it roared defiance and rage into the air. Black scales, fierce yellow-green eyes, and teeth so sharp Harry was expecting it to slice up its own tongue.

He. Was. Going. To. DIE.

He didn't move as the crowd booed and hissed at him, nor when Bagman called for him to start his attempt. Nor when the ponce did it again half a minute later when Harry hadn't moved. He just stared aimlessly at the dragon.

Then he smirked. Then snorted. Then snickered, gasped, and finally let out great rolls of laughter.

The crowd actually quieted a bit in confusion. What was _wrong_ with him?

The looks on their faces only made him laugh harder. They actually expected him to DO something! To fight or flee or piss himself! They wanted him to _perform_ like a trained animal, like a _freak._

He cackled, causing several, including Dumbledore and Hermione, to look at him with worry as his voice started to become tinged with hysteria. He could hear the whispers in the crowd, wondering if he'd gone mental.

He snorted, not caring. He was going to die and it'd be _cheered_ at by the same people who thought he was some kind of superstar for killing Tom!

He managed to get a mild grip on himself, still giggling a little, as he looked back to the beast before him, which was now leering at him in suspicion. He raised his eyebrows over the frames of his glasses when he say the heavy iron chain leading to one side.

"Heh, wow. Bet you're not happy to be here either." he snorted, drawing confused murmurs from the nearby watchers, as Harry would expect.

Harry did not, however, expect the scaled beast to actually snort in response.

Harry blinked. "...wait. Did…" he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before replacing them. "Did… uh, _do_ you understand me?"

Harry never imagined a dragon could sneer, or that it would look so much like Snape, but nevertheless, that's exactly what he was looking at.

Harry glanced around the crowd, and saw several of them looking at him with pale faces… that reminded him of second year. "Oh bugger, I'm speaking Parseltongue again-" He stopped, eyes wide, then spun to look at the dragon. "Wait, you can understand Parseltongue!"

The Horntail glared at him and cocked it- uh, her?- head in obvious irritation.

Harry put his hands up placatingly. "S-sorry, sorry, I… I didn't know. No one told me that it wasn't just snakes." He scowled. "Not like they would if they knew."

The dragon's expression didn't change.

"...yeah, you probably don't care. Why would you, no one else has. Not the judges, not the teachers… I doubt I have more friends than I have fingers that actually believe me when I told them I didn't want to take part in this bloody fucking tournament!"

He was ranting, he knew it, but he didn't care. "And they think I'm after the glory! That I'm going to walk up to your nest and steal a shiny fake egg because I'm Harry Potter, and I killed a Dark Lord when I was two! Well, _news flash_ you idiots, my mother killed him, it was _her_ protection! It sure as hell wasn't me, what was I going to do, pee on him?"

The crowd was glaring at him now, but he still didn't care. He was going to fry as soon as the dragon got over its shock anyway, he might as well get this out! "I get sent to my relatives, who hate me because of something I can't control, starved me, shoved me in the cupboard under the stairs… and _that_ twinkly asshole there," he growled, pointing an accusatory finger at a suddenly pale Dumbledore, and several of the judges leaned away from him in fright. "-said it was for my own protection, that the wards on the house would keep me safe; well guess what Goat-beard, it might have kept the Death Eaters out but I haven't been safe since you left me on their doorstep! Not at their prison of a house, and sure as HELL not at Hogwarts!"

The crowd reacted to that with bewilderment, and the way that everyone looked at Dumbledore made Harry realize he'd said that last part in English. He turned back to the dragon, who was eyeing him critically. "Oh, you want to know more? I got beaten when I didn't finish chores, _as a five year old._ I was cooking their meals as soon as I could reach the stove, but gods forbid I get any, no, such food was too good for a _freak_ like me."

He could feel tears pricking in his eyes. "Did you know, I thought my name was freak? They never called me anything else. It wasn't until they realized the teachers at school might notice if I didn't respond that they taught me to respond to my name… and beat me when I got that wrong too. During the summers Aunt Petunia made me work in the garden, without gloves, planting rosebushes… if I hadn't used the hose I would've died from thirst."

He smiled sadly. "When I finally got the Hogwarts letter, I couldn't believe it, it was the first time someone had mailed me something, you know? Someone knew my name, and had actually sent me something. Of course, they destroyed the letter, but more came, and eventually I learned all the 'unnatural' things I'd done, all the abnormal things, it was alright, because I was a wizard… I was special, I could do something the Dursleys couldn't! They couldn't take it from me!"

He faltered. "And then I came here. In my first year, I nearly died three times. Four if you count helping Hagrid with Norbert… oh, that's the baby dragon he helped hatch, I helped move it to somewhere it was safe…"

Harry didn't notice, but the crowd certainly did when the dragon's posture relaxed slightly. "But first it was Quirrell trying to jinx my broom and kill me during a Quidditch game, my first. The troll at Halloween was another… now that I think of it, running into Fluffy, that big three headed dog nearly got us too. And then finally, I nearly die to the Dark Wanker Voldywarts himself, trying to resurrect himself from the dead. And I killed Quirrell."

He laughed tonelessly. "A killer at eleven. Mum would be so proud. I asked Dumbledore why he was after me but he said I was too young.. Bet he'd say the same now, the goat-tosser…" he glared at Dumbledore again, who fidgeted in his seat.

"Second year, the whole school turned against me when they found out I could speak to snakes. I got hexed in the back so many times it's a wonder I'm still not scarred. My best friend gets paralyzed by a basilisk," the dragon's spines rose in aggression at the mention, making several in the audience scream, but Harry didn't even look up, kicking at a loose stone. "-an innocent girl gets dragged to some ancient chamber with a horrible monster, and guess who had to go save them? Not the teachers or adults, that's for sure. One even tried to wipe my memories when I dragged him along to help! So I nearly died again, saving someone I barely knew and getting bitten by the most deadly snake known to… well, _anyone,_ and I only barely manage to kill the thing with a bloody sword I pulled out of a hat!"

The dragon actually rose to its feet at that, startling the crowd, but Harry just watched it get up without comment; he was dead anyway, he might as well finish the story.

She was listening at least. No one ever had before, and he had to get it out while he had the chance!

"Then that summer, I learn the betrayer of my parents escaped prison, and that for our protection they'd post soul-sucking demons around the school! I nearly had my soul drained three times! THREE! And when I found the 'betrayer'? Turned out he was my godfather, and he was innocent! But the guy who did it got away, and when I try telling the adults my story, what happens? I'm brushed aside and I have to violate the laws of reality to go and save him! And he's still a fugitive!"

Harry feels the tears flow down his face again. "I was so _close_ , you know? So close to escaping the Dursleys, finally getting out of that hell, with someone who actually _cared_ … and that long-bearded bastard can't get him a trial to prove his innocence. Useless wanker…" he sniffed, hanging his head low.

"And finally this year, after nearly dying again at a fucking sporting event I come back to this deathtrap of a school and get pulled into this… this _farce._ " He laughed that hysterical cackle again, even as the dragon padded closer. "My best mate thought I wanted in on this idiocy, and abandoned me. My house mates think I'm some kind of hero, and the rest of the school thinks I'm a fame-grubbing glory hound. Which brings us to now, I guess!"

He looks up and sees the creature looming over him, her neck craned to peer at him. She _was_ magnificent, he had to say, so Hagrid was right about dragons in that regard at least.

"So… I guess this is the part where you kill me."

The collective gasp from the crowd once again proved a sudden transition to English. He considered making a break for the egg, or just back to the tent… but to tell the truth; "I'm just tired of it all." He mumbled, but another gasp from the peanut gallery proved he wasn't as quiet as he would have liked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dumbledore get to his feet, panic in his eyes. Wouldn't do for his Golden Boy to die in his school, after all.

He ignored the tosser, looking up at the dragon. "Go ahead. I won't blame you. You're just protecting your own, right? I don't mind, go ahead."

The crowd drew in its breath as the Horntail leaned in. Harry closed his eyes, feeling oddly at peace. He could hear Hermione screaming in the crowd… maybe she'd get out of the school now. Go to Beauxbatons. She'd probably get killed if she stayed here, what with everything that happened… she hoped she would forgive him.

Harry waited for death.

...And so he was rather surprised when he felt something long and wet slide against his face. Shocked out of his fugue, he opened his eyes…

And saw that the dragon had _licked_ him.

From the silence of the crowd, they couldn't believe it either.

Enormous yellow-green eyes bored into Harry's. He could see the imperfections in the iris, the glow of magic behind the sclera. At that moment Harry was absolutely and utterly convinced that, no matter what anyone else said, dragons were intelligent, thinking creatures. Still primal maybe, but no stupid beast could look like they were carefully measuring your soul.

After a moment of staring in awe Harry opened mouth to speak ."W-what?"

The horntail's slitted eyes peered at him… then softened. The long neck snaked forward and he was gently nudged forward towards the nest.

Tentatively, and unable to think of anything else to do, Harry moved towards the rocky hollow. He didn't notice Hagrid babbling in excitement or the dragon tamers on the sidelines gesticulating wildly. Nor did he know that, in the history of dragon taming, only four people had ever been willingly allowed into a nesting mother's domain, and certainly not by a twitchy type like the Horntail!

Harry knew none of this as he carefully picked his way up to the lip of the nest. Inside the small crater lay seven eggs all smooth and black, with tiny ivory-colored ridges. "Even your eggs get horns? Wow."

The mother snorted at that.

Harry carefully leaned over the eggs and retrieved the gold, metallic oval hiding among them. As he reeled it in, he stopped for a moment and, as softly as he could manage with shaking hands, laid his palm on the surface of one of the eggs.

A susurration of awed whispers broke out from those that could see, with one dragon tamer actually fainting from sheer envy. How was the boy not a pasty smear on the dirt right now!?

He looked up at the Horntail, confusion clouding his face. "...Why? I'm nobody special, just a kid with the worst luck on the planet… why me?"

The Horntail tilted its head, regarding the young man. Then, with grace that belied its size, it curled around the nest in a slithering of scales, raising its wings over the pair and obscuring it from view. Apparently it wanted this part to be private.

A minute passed. Then two. Then three. Finally, as the dragon tamers started to edge towards the immobile beast, it unfurled dramatically, rising to its feet in a smooth motion, revealing Harry at the edge of the nest holding the golden egg.

What baffled everyone (beyond the ludicrous amount of bafflement going around as it was) was that Harry Potter was smiling with happy tears in his eyes.

The two stared for a moment at each other, then Harry bowed low, shocking many of the traditionalists who thought to bow at any non-wizard was a disgrace in the highest extremes.

Which made it all the more incredible when the mother _bowed in return._ Wizards might hate to bow to anyone, but dragons didn't bow _period._ Until today, it would seem.

Harry nodded, turned, and stumbled back towards the tent, a happy smile on his face as he vanished through the flaps.

It took a moment later, but the voice of Ronald Weasley summed up what everyone else was thinking.

"What the bloody _hell_ was that about?!"

After a fast check in with Madam Pomfrey, who had run her diagnostic charm three times before accepting that, somehow, Harry Potter _hadn't_ been mortally wounded in some harebrained scheme, Harry walked out of the tent to see Hermione walking up, tear tracks under her eyes and red in the face. As she opened her mouth, Harry raised a hand, stopping her upcoming rant. "Later, Hermione. Let's head back up to the castle."

Harry didn't acknowledge the scoring or judges beyond a quick nod as he passed, trying to beat the rush out of the stadium.

Hermione rushed up behind him. "Harry, why-"

"Inside, Hermione. We're attracting gawkers."

"You're the one attracting them, Harry."

"Still-"

"Harry! Mate!"

Harry felt the sudden urge to curse. Either with words or spells, he didn't care. "What do you want, Ronald?" he said coldly.

Ron, as always, seemed absolutely oblivious to the situation or Harry's subzero tone. "That was wicked, Harry! You actually got the thing to listen to you! D'you think you can command it, like-"

"Ronald."

"-in those stories they printed about you, the ones-"

" _Ronald."_

"-Ginny is always nattering on about? I bet you could get it to set Snape on-"

"WEASLEY! Why are you here?!"

Ron finally seemed to notice that Harry was looking at him balefully. "What? Well, we're mates, yeah? I figure someone's tryin' to off you with the tournament, and you'll need me around to help-"

"So, that's it? Nothing else to say?"

The redhead's eyebrows knit in confusion. "What? No, that's it."

"Nothing at all? An apology maybe?"

"What? What for?"

"For abandoning me? For calling me a liar and a cheat?"

Ron smiled nervously. "Come off it mate-"

"No. NO. You don't get away with doing this, Weasley. You don't get to just abandon and betray me and come back like you went out for a butterbeer!"

Ron's face turned red. "What's the matter with you, Harry? I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Too late, Ron! What if I had died today? What if that dragon had shredded me to potions ingredients? Would you have said sorry to my tombstone!?"

Ron paled at that, along with the crowd forming around them. "I-I…"

"Go on, Ron. What do you have to say?" Harry growled, stepping up until he was face to face with Ron.

He backed away, pale-faced. "You're mental. Sodding mental!"

"Probably, but that doesn't mean you have an excuse. Don't talk to me until you're ready to apologize, Weasley." He glares around at the others in the crowd. "The same goes for every one of you that called me a liar and a cheat! If you beg, I might forgive, but I will _not_ forget your words! Now MOVE!"

The crowd immediately parted, and Harry led a bewildered Hermione into the castle.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the door slammed shut in the empty classroom they had used to learn summoning. Harry turned to face Hermione-

-and got a ringing slap across his cheek for his pains.

"You idiot! You numbskull! You… you…"

Harry rubbed his cheek. "Dunderhead?"

"YES!" Hermione screeched, beating her fists on Harry's chest before being overcome by sobs.

Having no idea what to do with a crying witch, Harry just awkwardly encircled Hermione in his arms and patted her back. "I'm fine, Hermione. It's okay-"

"No!" Hermione looked up, tears streaming down her face. "No, it's not okay! Harry, you nearly died! Worse, you gave up! I saw you! I _h-heard_ you!" She wailed, choking on another sob. "W-why? We had a plan, Harry, with your broom and… and you gave up! You were going to _let_ it kill you!"

"She."

Hermione blinked away her tears. "What?"

"Not 'it'. She."

Hermione punched him in the arm. "Prat! Why Harry? Why would you… how could you!?"

Harry grabbed Hermione's hands before they started beating on him again. "Hermione, what are you going to do when you graduate?"

Hermione paused. "W-what? Um…" she was a little thrown by the sudden change in topic. "I'll go into the Ministry, try to help the poor house elves and fix things for them-"

"They're probably hidden somewhere in the school, ask Fred and George if you want to talk to them about that. But my point is, you actually are going to graduate. I, on the other hand, have the Dark Wanker gunning for me every year. That or nearly dying from the Ministry or Dumbledore's idiocy."

Hermione looked affronted. "Harry, Dumbledore-"

"-is my Headmaster, nothing more. Hermione, ever since I got dragged into this mess with the Goblet, I've been thinking about my previous years, and honestly, you are probably the only good thing at Hogwarts for me right now."

Hermione blushed, but managed to reply; "Harry, how can you say that? You're learning magic of all things-"

"True, but only when I'm not being jinxed off my broom, dodging hexes from the Slytherins, fighting trolls, looking into cursed mirrors, delivering baby dragons to safety, running from three-headed dogs, getting yelled at by Snape-"

"Professor-" Hermione started to correct, but Harry rolled right over her words. "-being sent to the _Forbidden Forest_ for a nearly-lethal detention, escaping Devil's Snare, murderous flying keys, homicidal chess pieces, and finally, the disembodied spirit of my parents' killer in the back of my _Defense teacher's HEAD!"_ Harry finishes. "Hermione, any one of those would be the danger-filled highlight of someone's school career, and that all happened _first year!_ "

Hermione shuffled her feet. "But none of that was Dumbledore's fault-"

"Hermione, he is responsible for our safety at school. Now, I'll admit, we did kind of go looking for trouble with the stone, but we went to McGonagall first, remember? And she didn't listen. Me or Ron, I could see, since we were sort of troublemakers, but not listening to _you_? The brightest witch in her year, who had never _once_ had a detention or even points taken? Hell, you earned at least a quarter of all our points! She could have at least posted guards!"

Hermione blushed at the praise but still frowned at Harry's disrespect. "Still, Harry…"

"Another thought for you then, Hermione; the obstacles for the stone. Dumbledore had an amazingly powerful artifact hidden in the school, and yet he and the teachers set up obstacles three students, three _first-year_ students could defeat!"

Hermione sputtered trying to come up with an excuse as he rambled on. "Why not keep it in his office? Why not put an age line over the door to keep students out, like he did with the Goblet this year?" Fat lot of good that had done, though. "What about the Fidelius charm, like my parents were under? Hide some random classroom and stick the stone in there, or even do it somewhere in Hogsmeade! Professor Flitwick's a Charms Master right? So even if Dumbledore couldn't cast it, Flitwick could, and make Dumbledore the secret keeper, right? So why didn't he?"

The conversation continued for over an hour, as Harry pointed out as many flaws, errors and straight goof-ups that the staff at Hogwarts had shown, picking apart Hermione's increasingly desperate arguments until, finally, she had to admit that the teachers hadn't looked after their students… and were possibly downright negligent.

She did have to ask what had prompted him to think about all this.

"Well, that brings me back to the Task. When the dragon licked me… well, I was amazed. When it took me into its nest, I was shocked!"

"So was everyone else, Harry. Only four people have ever been willingly allowed into a nesting mother's nest."

He sighed, but with a light smile. "Oh great, another thing to be known for… Well, I have to say Hermione, it was… intense. You could feel the heat coming off the eggs. Like there was fire inside. I swear I felt a kick too." He grinned as Hermione giggled. "But when it wrapped its wings around me… it… I…"

"What? What's wrong Harry?"

Harry didn't answer at first. Looking closer, Hermione could see slight tears at the corners of his eyes. "...did you know mothers want to care for hurt children? Any hurt child?" He eventually replied. "I didn't. I've only had Aunt Petunia as a reference, and the dying words of my mother. And Mrs. Weasley, I guess..." he trembled slightly. "Apparently, while the Horntail didn't understand everything I said, she did see that I was a child in distress…"

"...What… what do you…?"

Harry pulled down the shoulder of his shirt, revealing a small cut that was glowing a faint orange. "I think it adopted me, in a way. It nicked me with one of the spines on its face. It hurt, but it healed immediately and started doing… this."

"Harry! You should have that examined-"

"No, I don't want it getting back to Dumbledore. And I don't think it's like Spiderman, like I'm going to wake up and breathe fire one day. I think it… just wanted me to remember."

"Remember what?"

"There are still people who care about me, that want to help. You, Remus, Sirius… You're my family, the one I never had. The one I deserve and the one I want."

Hermione's smile was bright enough to blow out a power station, even through the tears. She lunged forwards to wrap Harry in her arms, sobbing into his shoulder. She could feel him doing the same, but neither cared.

After a few minutes, they reluctantly parted. "So, that's it? That's all it did?"

"Well… it did give some advice."

"It did? What did it sound like? Was it even clear? How did it sound in comparison to snakes?"

Harry laughed. "One at a time! In order, yes, like I'd imagine a volcano with a feminine and ponderous accent, quite clear, and it didn't sound the same at all to snakes."

"How odd… so what advice did it give?"

"Well, first it told me that, if where I nested was not making me happy, then shouldn't I think about finding another nest? That's what made me start thinking about this a lot more… but second…"

Harry grinned, and a small thrill went down Hermione's spine as she realized it looked eerily similar to some of the dragons during the tasks. Maybe Harry would be able to breathe fire...

"She told me I could hide from predators and let their words pierce me… or _be_ the predator and burn them down to salt and ash."

His grin widened. "On that note, Hermione, when you were looking up things about the Triwizard contract for me, you said something about magical oaths…"

* * *

That evening in the Great Hall, many people were still talking over the results of the task… particularly Harry Potter's performance. Some people talked about how he sounded before the dragon had licked him. Several commented on how he'd shot down the judges and Ron Weasley, who was sulking at the Gryffindor table. A scant few talked in worried whispers about his words before the dragon had apparently gone insane and licked him.

So when Harry walked into the hall, hundreds of eyes turned towards him.

Glancing towards the head table, he saw Dumbledore and the other judges all chatting amongst each other… though Crouch and Karkaroff were glaring, one out of spite, the other out of habit.

Good.

He stepped into the center of the hall, and pointed his wand at his throat.

" _Sonorous."_

Several people were impressed. That was normally taught much later in the year, but Harry had performed it flawlessly. Conversation immediately ceased as some realized the Fourth Champion had something to say.

"Is this thing on?"

Students snickered and rolled their eyes. Snape sneered. Dumbledore… looked curious.

Well, he was about to get a nice little wake-up call, Harry thought.

"I've been informed that there are a lot of rumors flying around about what happened today, how I put my name in the Goblet, and a bunch of other little details that haven't been adequately explained to the student body by the staff or myself…"

Dumbledore, McGonnagal and Snape all frowned at that, though the other professors nodded. They'd wanted to just explain it all weeks ago and put these silly rumors to bed.

"However, many people here doubt my honesty, due to frankly slanderous articles written about me in the Prophet by Rita 'Shit-Quill' Skeeter…"

In the laughter and boos that followed that statement, McGonnagal's cry of 'Ten points from Gryffindor for language, Mister Potter!" went unnoticed.

"So let me ensure that's not an issue." He raised his wand. "I, Harry James Potter, swear upon my magic that I shall immediately explain my actions involving the tournament to everyone here, unless they are deeply personal."

The staff gaped in shock. No one ever dared make such a public oath, save in official capacities like Wizengamot trials or Ministry summons!

So Harry was left uninterrupted as he further clarified; "Furthermore I shall only speak the truth, and answer all pertinent questions about my life at Hogwarts or elsewhere as truthfully as I can for the next fifteen minutes, or until I utter the words, 'thus ends my oath'-"

"No, stop! Harry!" Dumbledore cried as he realized some of the things that might be accidentally revealed, trying to draw his wand to silence the boy-

"So mote it be!" A flash of white engulfed Harry and his wand, to the despair of the headmaster. He started to cast a silencing charm anyway before Flitwick interrupted. "Stop, Albus! If you prevent him from speaking his oath might drain his magic!"

Albus' eyes widened. Harry had pledged to explain his actions, full stop, and by invoking a time limit… oh dear, how reckless!

Harry was unperturbed, though he did smirk at the head table. "Now, let's start with the basics. I did not enter my name into the Goblet of Fire. Nor did I in any way, shape or form ask, coerce or instigate another to do the same. I have no idea who placed my name in, only that they likely used a Confundus spell to confuse the Goblet into coming up with a fourth school and thus a fourth champion, in what I believe is _yet another_ attempt to _kill_ me. In fact, I never wanted to participate in this stupid tournament at all! _Lumos!"_

The flare of light from his wand shocked the hall as his words were proven true. But Harry was far from done. "I consider myself to not be a Hogwarts champion; the real Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, and I sincerely apologize to him, Victor Krum and Fleur Delacour for stealing what should rightfully be their time in the spotlight. _Lumos!_ "

Another flash, another round of gasps, the loudest from the three champions and the visiting schools. Glancing at the head table, Harry saw Professor Sprout, Karkaroff, and Madame Maxine all looking at him with respect, whether open or grudging. He bowed to them.

Dumbledore seemed a little bit lost, frowning. While this certainly cleared the air, he couldn't help but think there was something more...

"Now as for the task; I had absolutely no clue that dragons could understand Parseltongue. I could exert no control over the Horntail, I could only speak to it. Also, to all the dunderheads that didn't pick this up after second year…" he glared at Ron, who shrunk in his seat. "... _being a Parseltongue does NOT make someone a dark wizard, and I most certainly am not a dark wizard myself! Lumos!"_

A brighter, harsher light exploded from his wand, causing many to look away in discomfort or shame, mostly those who had believed Skeeter's articles. Dumbledore was looking a little nervous at Harry's rising temper. "Now, a few of you probably heard my comments and saw my breakdown at the start of the task. I don't know what you all thought of that, but the truth is that I fully expected to die and had absolutely no plan other than to summon a broom and hope for the best." The whispers and gasps of horror rounded the tables. "In fact, I thought it would be a welcome release from the life I've lived at this school currently!"

 _That_ silenced the hall. Harry smiled thinly. "Oh, don't like that? Well, many of you helped with that! In first year I'm crowded, questioned, or belittled because of something that happened when I was still in diapers that my _parents_ did! I fought a troll, a cerberus, and the vengeful shade of Voldemort-" cue panicked shrieks. "-oh GROW UP! It's a made up name! There is no 'Voldemort' family! His real name was Tom Riddle-"

Dumbledore's eyes widened. He wouldn't! "Harry! NO!" Dumbledore shouted, desperate to stave off the chaos that would soon ensue.

"And he was a halfblood son of a Muggle! _LUMOS!"_

Piercing light filled the hall, and jaws hit the floor in shock, awe, and disbelief. It couldn't be true… could it? Whispers of confusion began as Draco Malfoy stood and pointed a shaking finger at Harry. "L-Liar! It can't be true!"

"That's right!" Harry spat, not even sparing a glance to the blonde ferret. "The famed Dark Lord Voldemort is a bastard! In more ways than one!" He quickly flicked his wand through the same anagram as Riddle had in the Chamber a year and a half ago, and several students seemed to wilt or even faint in their seats. "But don't listen to me, look it up! Tom Riddle got a special services award to the school for stopping Rubeus Hagrid, who allegedly opened the Chamber all those years ago… though he was framed by Riddle, and is innocent of his crimes! _Lumos!_ "

Dumbledore sat back heavily in his chair. What was happening? Where had all this come from?

"Oh, and to all the people who read those stupid Harry Potter adventure books? They're all lies. I was brought up by magic-hating muggles! They beat me, starved me, and locked me in a boot cupboard until my Hogwarts letters came!"

Everyone snapped back to pay attention as Harry went on, shock on their faces. Harry actually seemed to hesitate for a moment, but pressed on.

"I never knew about magic or the Wizarding World until Hagrid took me for my school supplies! And two summers ago they put locks on my door and bars on my windows to keep me from going back! The summer after that they would have beat me bloody because of accidental magic if I hadn't run away; and that was the first time I heard of my godfather, Sirius Black, who is innocent of the crimes he's accused of, framed by a still-alive rat-bastard named Peter Pettigrew. But when I and my friend Hermione tried to explain this to Minister Fudge, we were brushed off and he was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss! He's never even had a trial! _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

A few more students actually fainted at the combination of Sirius' innocence and the shining form of Prongs. Dumbledore's face was ashen, along with Crouch's.

"I could go on, but I think I've made my point quite clear. So let me end on this. I, Harry James Potter, intend to leave Hogwarts and Britain at the end of this year if I am not released from the tournament and given reassurances and immediate action for the safety of myself and others at this school."

The uproar was instantaneous. All the professors were on their feet, shouting, as were the students. The foreign exchanges were looking around in bewilderment at the sudden madhouse the Great Hall had become.

" _ **SILENCE!"**_ Harry roared, quieting the hall.

"Harry, how can you say Hogwarts isn't safe?" Dumbledore questioned, fear on his face at the idea of losing Harry Potter. Harry's answering laugh was cold and terrifying.

"Gods, how could I _not?_ In first year, the troll, getting hexed on my broom, and all the damn stupid obstacles you put in the way of the stone and the wraith of Voldemort himself!" To his glee, a few less screams erupted this time, though many did turn to stare at Dumbledore. "Second year, an idiotic glory-hound of a teacher that tries to obliviate me, a fucking _basilisk_ I had to kill _on my own with a bloody SWORD,_ another damn Riddle-Wraith, and giant talking spiders in the forest! In third year, the dementors attacked me _three times_ and I find out my parents' betrayer was in my fucking dorm room for three years! And finally I'm entered into a deadly tournament against my will, three years before I could even be remotely ready!"

The headmaster was speechless, but Harry didn't let up. "Also!" he pointed to Draco. "You permit bullies to run rampant without any kind of deterrent or punishment," He pointed to a livid Snape. "You allow teachers to abuse their students and show blatant favoritism to the point of making the House Cup a joke," he points to McGonnagal, who was surprised to be singled out. "You do nothing when students come to you with concerns, and you don't step in to prevent school-wide bullying against a member of your own house!" McGonnagal's jaw worked soundlessly, before she ducked her head in shame.

Harry turned back to the Headmaster bringing his wand to bear on the old bastard. "And you send me back to my abusive relatives, every year, despite me sometimes _begging_ you not to! You sit on the Wizengamot as Chief Warlock and don't get my godfather a trial! I'm done! Maybe Salem or Beauxbatons would suit me better."

Dumbledore seemed torn between despair and terror. "H-Harry…"

" _Aguamenti!"_

A jet of water flew the length of the room directly into Dumbledore's shocked face, soaking his long beard and sparkling robes, causing gasps of shock and a little outrage at Harry's disrespect… until they realized his magic had just verified everything he had said.

Harry turned to look around the hall. "Any questions?"

Silence met his query.

"None? Then I hope I need never do this again. Thus ends my oath."

Hundreds of eyes watched in mortified silence as Harry turned on his heel and exited the hall, as rapid and angry arguing broke out at the Head Table. Dumbledore, in the middle of it all, watched him go, numb with shock.

McGonagall turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, is it true? Did he truly… was he really living in a cupboard?"

"I didn't know, Minerva, I…"

"You swore he would be safe! That he would be cared for! I told you they were the worst kind of muggles-"

"Minerva," he said, standing. "Please find Mister Potter and bring him to my office. I must speak with him-"

"Let him be, Albus!" Moody spoke up. "You've done a fair bit of hurt to the lad and you'll do no better by pulling him up to your office like some chit of a boy!"

"But Alastor, we must ensure he remains at Hogwarts! He is safe here!"

"Seems to me that he has a damn good case for the opposition there, Albus."

Dumbledore was at a loss. How could this have spun out of control so quickly?

* * *

First HP fic! What do you think? Please review!


	2. A Few Reactions, and Actions

Harry wasn't sure how he felt after that dramatic scene.

On the one hand, he'd just provided undeniable evidence of how he had been treated and had given an ultimatum to be met. On the other hand, he _had_ revealed how he had been treated, beaten and abused to hundreds of students, and it would certainly be all over the _Prophet_ by tomorrow.

Still, that wasn't the point was it? The point was that everyone knew and no amount of twinkling eyes or hurried coverups would prevent those hundreds of people from knowing precisely what had happened.

He couldn't wait to tell Sirius about the look on Crouch's face! Maybe he could find a pensieve to share the moment?

"If it isn't-"

"-ickle Harrykins!"

Harry spun, wand in hand, startling the Weasley twins. "Whoa there mate,"

"We come in peace!"

"We just wanted to talk,"

"But you might be feeling a bit out of sorts,"

"So we'll sod off if you prefer."

Relaxing a little, and slipping his wand back up his sleeve Harry sighed. "How did you two find me?"

"We might not have the map-"

"But we have our ways, o brother in chaos."

Harry smirked at that. "Guess I left a bit of a mess, didn't I?"

"'A bit of a mess' he says, Gred."

"Hysterical he is, Forge."

"Poor Headmaster was getting it from just about everyone."

"Crouch, Bagman,"

"McGonnagal, Flitwick, Sprout,"

"The headmasters,"

"The students,"

"Quite the pickle, he's in."

Their faces turned somber. "It's all true, isn't it Harry?" one said, Harry was reasonably certain it was George.

"What do you think?" Harry replied, a little heatedly.

Fred responded without dropping a beat. "I think I remember the bars we pulled off your window a few summers ago."

"I think I remember how you saved our sister." George picked up.

"I think we remember that you never smiled when you saw the walrus-uncle there to pick you up at King's Cross."

"I think we always knew some of it Harry."

"Just not all."

"And for that,"

"And never asking,"

"We are deeply sorry." they finished together, bowing low and as serious as Harry had ever seen them.

A bit surprised, and a little sheepish at the apology. "Knock it off, you two, you have nothing to apologize for."

"But we do Harrykins."

"We could have pushed the issue with our dad about the bars."

"We could have gone with you to the chamber for our sister."

"We could have stood up for you when the school didn't."

"And we could have listened when you said you didn't want in this Tournament-"

"Think we dodged a proper curse there, eh?"

"Can you imagine what mum would do if we fought a dragon?" George said, shuddering.

"Before or after she beat it to death with her apron?" Fred answered, deadpan.

They all had a good laugh at the image before the twins finished.

"So the point is Harry,"

"If you need anything at all,"

"The Weasley twins will be happy to assist,"

"Especially against certain prats of brothers or walrus-like muggles."

Harry felt a proper smile break out on his face for the first time since the Task. "Thanks, you two."

"Now run along, Harry."

"We'll make sure you get some time alone."

"And we'll spread the word 'round Gryffindor so you don't get questioned at the door."

Harry nodded, and continued down the corridor. The twins watched him pass with fond smiles.

"There goes a fine young man, Forge."

"The brother we never had, Gred."

At that moment, McGonagall turned the corner. Spotting the twins she hustled over. "Gentlemen, have you seen Mister Potter around?"

"Depends who's asking."

Her eyes narrowed. "The Head of your house, Mr. Weasley."

She was surprised at the lack of terror in their gazes as they looked back, unimpressed. "In that case,"

"I think we can easily say,"

"That we have not seen hide nor hair,"

"Of the honorable Mister Potter."

McGonagall frowned severely. "Misters Weasley, the Headmaster wishes to speak with him on his words in the hall."

"Is it about his schoolwork?"

McGonagall blinked. "What? No, I just said-"

"Is it a disciplinary action involving possible suspension or expulsion?"

She frowned. "No, and-"

"Then why is he seeing,"

"The Headmaster and not his Head of House?"

McGonagall stared. "Whatever are you two talking about?"

"It's in the charter, Professor."

"We've read it all you know."

"Need to know the rules to break them,"

" And loopholes are such amazing things."

"But it does state,"

"That unless for academic purposes or discipline possibly requiring suspension or expulsion,"

"A student is always first directed to speak to their head of house about their behavior."

"Followed by the Deputy Head,"

"And _then_ the Headmaster."

"So you're skipping a few steps."

McGonagall shook her head. "Dumbledore has my permission to-"

"But the point is," Fred interrupted. "That you're not even trying to talk to Harry, Professor."

"And after he called you out on this very issue."

McGonagall was thunderstruck. "I… I still must speak to him."

"We don't know where he is."

"But I think you should consider what he said,"

"And that neither you or the Headmaster are in his good books right now."

The twins split and walked around McGonagall, leaving her standing in the corridor, feeling astonished... and quite old.

Harry found himself wandering out towards the Black Lake, ignoring the stares of the Durmstrang students as he sat on the shore, watching the waves, remembering how it felt when he sailed across it and saw Hogwarts in all her glory for the first time, lighting the night… he had felt privileged to see it. Still did, really. But looking up at the castle not only brought sadness and contempt for those inside…

What did that say about him?

He heard soft footsteps on the grass beside him. He didn't bother to turn, though he did tense.

"Harry?"

Harry sighed mentally and looked over his shoulder at a round-faced and mildly pudgy boy. "Hey Neville. Take a seat if you like."

The budding herbologist nodded and sat down. They spent a good five minutes looking out over the lake. "...I'm sorry Harry."

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. The only people to apologize so far were the people that hadn't actually done anything… the ones that had actually _helped._ "Accepted, mate. Honestly, I feel I should apologize to you."

"What? What for?"

Harry shrugged. "You've always been a good friend, and I never returned the favor much at 're more Gryffindor than most of the tower."

Nevilel turned pink. "But I'm not-"

"Neville, in your first year you stood up to three friends, without a wand, and pulled a Gandalf."

"A what?"

"'You cannot pass!' No? Forget it. My point is you're braver than you know. And forget Snape and Potions, I bet he could make grown men cry."

Neville snorted at that. "...Thanks, Harry. So what will you do now?"

"Well I plan to-"

"POTTER!"

Harry groaned, head on his knees. "Well, apparently I need to deal with a ferret problem." He grumbled, looking up to see a somewhat unnerving number of fourth-year and higher Slytherins approaching, Malfoy in the lead.

"Take it back, Potter!"

Harry knew what he meant, but played dumb regardless. "Take what back, Draco?"

"What you said about the Dark Lord! He's no half-blood, he can't be! He's the Heir of Slytherin!"

"So? I'm the heir of the Potter family and I'm a half-blood. Seamus is the heir of the Finnegan family. You can be the heir and still be half-blood."

Draco was rapidly reddening. "Take. It. Back. Potter!"

"Draco, it was a magical oath." Harry said tiredly, slowly rising to his feet, Neville doing so as well though he was glancing at the Slytherin horde in fear. "I can't take it back. Not won't, _can't_. And I still have my does that tell you?"

"You're lying. It was a trick! You made the whole thing up!" Malfoy screeched, his face darkening to a Dursley Purple.

"Did you even go look at the trophy room?" He saw Malfoy's twitch. "You did. Then you know the truth. The Dark Lord that led a genocidal war that killed off dozens of pureblood houses was a half-blood. I'd say he got one over on his Death Eaters, don't you?"

Malfoy's wand, along with half a dozen others rose. Harry, however, had been practicing for the tournament and so was significantly faster on the draw. " _Protego!"_

Half a dozen hexes and jinxes slammed into the dome of force, making Harry gasp. Draco sneered. "We'll show you how Slytherin deals with liars, Potter! _Diffendo!_ "

Harry's shield held against the second volley, but cracked with the third. Glancing around he saw no teachers… typical. He sighed as the Slytherins started a fourth volley. This was going to hurt-

"PROTEGO!"

A second dome reinforced Harry's, actually passing through it to slam against the curses and jinxes, rebounding them back into the Slytherin mob and causing many member to shriek as their legs gave out, their tongues stuck to the roof of their mouths or got inflicted with shallow, painful cuts.

Harry looked to the side to see Neville, sweating as he focused on holding up the shield. Harry was about to grab him and run when yet another voice called out.

"POTTER! Fifty points from Gryffindor for attacking a student!"

Harry hissed in rage. Of all the times. "Professor, I think you'll find that they cast the first curses."

"A likely story! Your arrogance knows no bound to accuse them of such-"

"I, Harry James Potter, swear upon my magic that neither I nor Neville Longbottom fired the first curse, and that we did not intentionally antagonize any of these Slytherins to instigate the fight. _Lumos_." His wand lit up, clearly illuminating the hateful scowl on the man's face. "Gods, I wish I knew about magical oaths back in second year. You were saying, Professor?"

"Detention for your cheek, Potter. Now come, the Headmaster wants to speak to you." he snarled, reaching out to grab Harry.

"No." Harry said, stepping out of the greasy man's reach.

Snape paused. "Another detention for disobedience, Mister Potter!"

"No."

Snape's face turned a bright red. "You will listen to your betters you-

"Shut up, you greasy-haired, dim-witted, wax-faced coward!"

Silence spread rapidly, with the Slytherins pale and Neville looking like he was going to faint. Even Snape looked astonished.

Harry didn't give him time to ramp up his vitriol though. "I will not see Dumbledore at the moment, because I need to calm down before I speak to him and I don't want to do so without several others present. And I will not serve detention with you because I don't see you as a professor."

"You stupid brat!" Snape growled, looming over Harry. "I'll have you-"

"Expelled? Please do. It would make me quite happy to get the hell out of this clusterfuck. I will never sit a detention with you willingly again, Snape. You're a bully and a coward, picking on children and crushing their confidence for reasons so petty that I can't believe you were hired in the first place. You know I was actually excited for my first Potions class, back in first year? I'd ignored all the Gryffindors who said it was a waste of time, that you were unfair. I thought they might just be complaining about the work. I wrote down all the highlights of your speech, fame, glory, stopper in death… and then you turned and spoke to me, asked me those questions."

Harry stepped forward, not caring that he was practically nose-to-nose with Snape. "I was ashamed, I thought I had read ahead and prepared but you had shot me down. I looked for the answers but I couldn't find them in the textbook. I found out later that you had asked me about second, third and _sixth year_ parts of the curriculum." Harry snarled. "But I wasn't deterred. I knew I could prove myself in the lab, so I studied and worked and the next lab I made a perfect potion, right color, right smell, right thickness… I was proud, I knew I'd beaten your expectations! Do you know what happened next?"

Harry jabbed a finger into Snape's chest. "You. Dropped. It. You purposefully knocked it off your desk, shattered it on the floor, looked at me, and said, "'What a pity. A zero for the day, Mister Potter.' What kind of teacher holds a grudge over ten years for a child they haven't even MET?!" Harry roared, hair rising up as static electricity built in the air.

Snape, as usual, appeared unmoved. "Arrogant and entitled, just-"

"Like my father? Well guess what Snape, I NEVER KNEW MY FATHER!" Harry's eyes began to softly glow an intimidating, fearsome green. "I never knew my mother either! The only memory I have of my parents is my mother SCREAMING FOR VOLDEMORT TO SPARE ME!"

Snape actually did pale at that, as did the rest of the crowd (now rapidly expanding as students investigated the ruckus) but Harry didn't let him go. "I intend to bring you up when I negotiate with Dumbledore. Either you will take a magical oath to improve your teaching and be at least neutral to the students, or I will attempt to have you thrown out of the castle. If I can't get either of those I will not return to Hogwarts. So tell me, you lard-soaked rodent, which of us does Dumbledore value most? Because whether you or I go, I win."

Ignoring the gaping, incandescently furious professor, Harry turned to Neville. "Thanks mate, I owe you one." Neville pinked in mild embarrassment but also seemed to stand taller at the words. Harry turned to the pale-faced Slytherins. "Next person to try and hex me for telling the truth about Tom Riddle, I'll put them in the Hospital Wing for as I long as I can get away with." He stared at Malfoy until he began to squirm, then turned on his heel and walked away, wand in hand. After a moment, Neville followed, looking warily at the Slytherins and a pale, gaping Snape.

They walked for a short while before Neville muttered softly; "Are you really going to try and get Snape out?"

"I'm going to give it my best shot. That man is poison to the school." Harry said venomously.

"...If you manage it, I'm putting you in for an Order of Merlin." Neville replied with a smile.

The laughed at that until Neville frowned and said '"Dumbledore, on your right."

Harry hissed in irritation and cut left, towards the Quidditch pitch. He was surprised when Neville broke off and intercepted Dumbledore, engaging him in a barrage of meaningless alchemy questions and giving him time to slip his shrunken Firebolt out of his pocket and fly to the pitch, ignoring what he assumed to be a conversation that liberally used the phrase 'Harry my boy, you must learn forgiveness.'

Dumbledore watched Harry fly off despondently. He had to talk to the boy, show that he was safe here, that he must remain!

"Professor?"

He turned to look at Neville, disappointment in his eyes. "Mister Longbottom, I need to speak with Harry."

"He doesn't want to talk sir."

"Nevertheless-"

"Sir," Neville said forcefully. "Did you see what occurred just before you came towards us?"

Dumbledore raised two fluffy eyebrows. "No, Mister Longbottom."

"You missed Harry having to defend himself from seventeen Slytherins of all years because they weren't happy about him exposing V-Voldemort's past."

"Oh, come now, I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding-"

Dumbledore trailed off in shock at the sudden, immense _anger_ on the Longbottom boy's face. "Misunderstanding? Leaving your notes in your dorm in a misunderstanding. Getting hexed because you accidentally tripped someone in the hall is a misunderstanding. Seventeen Slytherins all tried to hex a student, headmaster, and worse yet, Snape tried to punish Harry for it!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I will speak with Professor Snape-"

"And what good will that do? You'll let him off again, even though he's been bullying the Gryffindors since my first year at least and probably longer. And he always tries to sabotage Harry's potions, or get the Slytherins to do it. And of course you'll let the Slytherins off, nevermind that Harry had to block over _thirty_ curses before I stepped in. He could have been in the infirmary for _days_ , and you're not even going to investigate, I'd bet."

Dumbledore gaped at the sudden appearance of a lion in the normal mouse-like countenance of Neville Longbottom.

Neville wasn't finished. "And you know what, Harry's done everything he can to help when you or the teachers don't. McGonagall never steps in when we're bullied by Malfoy. You never stop to help when one of your own professors calls a student a dunderhead, or a lout, o-or a useless lump…"

Dumbledore shock only deepened when he saw the boy actually had pain and hurt and even tears in his eyes for a moment before snapping his focus back to the aged headmaster.

"Harry does though! He tries, even when it loses him points or gets him detentions! He's a better protector of the students than you are, and with everything that's happened at Hogwarts I'm surprised he hasn't hexed the staff table!"

Dumbledore drew himself together, but Neville was already stomping down the path to the greenhouses. The aged wizard sighed, then continued to the Quidditch pitch. Regardless of what happened, he needed to talk to Harry.


	3. Big, Small, and Giant Brass Balls

Harry evaded Dumbledore for the rest of the day, first by flying circles round the castle (and re-entering through the Astronomy tower), then by judicious use of the Marauder's Map (and the sudden and timely intervention of Peeves when McGonagall got too close once), then back _out_ of the castle, down to Hagrid's hut (stopping by the Beauxbatons carriage and Durmstrang ship), and finally ending in the kitchens, where he found Hermione debating with Dobby, Winky and several other elves, who were calmly insisting that, no thanks, they were happy being bonded to the castle.

"Hermione, you're thinking about this the wrong way."

"But Harry! They don't realize they're being taken advantage of-"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's just… perspective, Hermione. It's a…" he searched for the right words. "...cultural thing? To them, they aren't being taken advantage of." he turned to Dobby. "You guys like working, and like being helpful, right? But what do you want that you don't have?"

The elves became rather bashful, but Dobby spoke up. "Harry Potter sirs, we is not wantings anything, not proper for elveses to be wantings anything!"

"Well it's not proper for bigots like Malfoy to mistreat loyal and brave people like you, Dobby. Come on, we already give magic for service, what else do you wish you had more of?"

The elves looked at each other, then a smaller elf-woman called Ginger squeaked, "E-elflings."

Hermione cocked her head. "Elflings?"

"Little elves, Miss Grangy. We's not allowed to be making new elves without permission from masters, but they is not always remembering…"

Hermione opened her mouth to rant, but Harry stepped in. "Why don't they just let you do as you like for… er, making elflings?"

He was _not_ blushing, thank you very much!

"Well, elflings be taking looong time to make and we is not so good at the work when we is making them… is three months, you see."

"That's not long at all!" Hermione exclaimed.

"To elves it might be…" Harry mused, looking around at the scurrying little figures. "I mean, look how much they move! Three months without being able to do that? It'd drive Dobby spare, I know." Dobby nodded hurriedly, shuddering at the thought. "And for families that rely on house elves or that only have one, three months without their help might make a big problem, Hermione." Harry pointed out. The elves nodded solemnly.

"But… but you should be able to have children!"

"Is just way it is, Miss Grangy."

"What… what if you could call other elves to help while you were, uh, making elflings? So you could do your duties and still have elflings?"

The eyes of the elves widened at that, and they started whispering excitedly.

"And… and what about elves with bad masters? If you earned money, you could buy them from bad masters… or you could push for laws so they couldn't treat elves badly at all!" Hermione pressed. To her delight, a few elves nodded along to this thoughtfully, thought most looked a bit ill at the idea.

Before she could continue though, Harry pulled her aside. "One step at a time, Hermione. Too much and their brains might overheat from excitement." Indeed, a few elves were starting to vibrate unnervingly as they thought of the possibilities. Hermione and HArry looked at each other, then very, very carefully snuck out the portrait.

As they headed up to Gryffindor Tower, Harry filled Hermione in on what had happened the rest of the day. She was a little put out that he avoided Dumbledore but dropped it when Harry insisted that he wasn't ready to speak with the 'goatbeard' anytime soon.

He told her how dozens of students had apologized to him, including a dozen Hufflepuffs led by Susan Bones. A few others here and there from other houses, except Slytherin of course. On most accounts, however, he felt it was too little, too late.

He told her how Krum, Fleur and Cedric had all cornered him as he was leaving the castle again, and thanked him for his words in the Great Hall while also apologizing for previous comments. They'd insisted on giving Harry a tour of the Beauxbatons carriage and Durmstrang ship, during which Harry learned a lot about French young women (they got quite cranky and red-faced when surprised by visiting celebrities) and Bulgarian young men (they were disturbingly good at smuggling in vodka). Cedric had profusely thanked Harry for his warning about the dragons and promised to repay his help in the First Task by giving him a leg up on the Second, when he figured out the clue himself.

Most imprtantly in his mind, Harry went on to tell her of how Hagrid had been blubbering into a tankard of ale in his hut when Harry showed up, apologizing for everything under the sun.

-Flashback-

Harry was surprised for once that Fang wasn't leaping on him the moment he knocked on the door. In fact, Hagrid usually was out in his garden at this point in the day… but there was light inside, so he had to be home.

Gingerly, Harry opened the door and found himself stunned by the sight of his large, normally cheerful friend, bent over the table and sobbing into a tankard…

And by the discarded bottles on the floor, this was not his first.

"Hagrid?"

Hargrid turned, and Harry was shocked to see the look of anguish and sorrow on his face… it was like seeing a Slytherin happily smiling, it just didn't look _right_.

"Ah… hullo, H-Harry…" Hagrid mumbled softly, trying to wipe away his tears on the sleeve of his enormous coat.

"Hagrid, what on earth is wrong? Is something wrong in the forest? Are you all right?" Harry asked, bewildered at the man's utterly defeated expression.

To his further confusion, Hagrid actually broke down and _bawled_ at that! "Y-yeh ask… y-eh ask if 'ol ' _Agrid_ is all righ'!" The big man blubbered, fat tears splashing onto the table and dribbling into his beard. "After evry'thin tha' hapn'd!"

Harry blinked, but put down his bag and walked over to the giant-sized softie. "There, there…"

Hagrid lookedl ike he wanted to burst into tears again, but instead pulled out a large handkerchief that was more like a quilt and blew his nose noisily. "Ah… I… I'm so sorry, 'Arry…"

"What?"

"I was the one tha' took ye ta Dumbledore! I saw ye placed at those… _monsters'_ h-home! I didna even think ta come by and check on ye, Harry!" the man wailed, his fists slamming into the table and making the whole thing creak ominously.

Harry rubbed his back. "It's alright, Hagrid-"

"NO! IT AIN'T ALRIGH' HARRY!" The man bellowed, rising with such speed that the table flipped and splintered to pieces on the floor. "Ah coulda' let Sirius have ya! Then he would'na gone off after tha' _rat_ Pettigrew an' you'd be safe a-an' s-sound!" Hagrid moaned, stumbling over to an enormous armchair and slumping into it. "Ah failed yeh, Harry…"

Harry's brow furrowed. "Hagrid, it's not your fault."

Red-rimmed eyes looked down at Harry… even sitting, Hagrid was taller than he was. "Wha…? But Harry…"

" _No,_ Hagrid. Do you know what you did? You ran into a place that Voldemort had just been at to try and save a baby. He could have had other Death Eaters watching and you still came to get me out of there."

"But…"

"You just took me to the person you trusted to make sure I was safe, that's all. In the end, it's _Dumbledore's_ fault that he didn't check up on me. _He_ is my magical guardian, _he_ took responsibility and _he_ mucked the whole thing up, despite McGonagall telling him not to, from what I hear."

"But…" Hagrid had stopped crying and instead looked bewildered.

" _You_ on the other hand, _rescued_ me. You were the one that came for me when the letters weren't answered. You traveled out to that island in the middle of a storm and knocked down the door to take me away from those awful people." Harry smiled. "Hagrid, you _saved_ me, again! Not Dumbledore, not McGonagall, not the Ministry or anyone else, _you_."

"H-Harry…"

"Did you know, I thought all adults were like like the Dursleys? Even my teachers and the nurses that bandaged me up after my cousin beat me up didn't pay attention and listened to the Dursleys. You were the first adult I ever thought to actually trust, that ever treated me kindly. No!" Harry took one of Hagrid's beefy hands in his own. "No, more than that! You were my very first friend!"

Hagrid looked like he was about to cry again, but Harry went on. "You showed me to Diagon Alley for the first time. You took me to my vault, told me about my parents, got Hedwig for me! You let me help you hatch a _dragon_ , Hagrid! A _dragon!_ It might have been a bit tough at the end of that but I got to see something only handful of people in the _world_ have ever seen, because of you!"

Hagrid _was_ crying now, big, sloppy tears, but Harry only smiled and kept going. "And at the end of first year, you gave me the album. Hagrid, you didn't just tell me stories of my parents, you _gave_ me my parents. You contacted everyone and put the whole thing together for me, one kid out of dozens that came to Hogwarts that year."

"Y-yer special H-Harry, you know tha'..." HAgrid mumbled, looking at the floor.

"But I didn't believe it at the time, Hagrid! You showed me and told me more of my parents than everyone else combined! You reminded me that I had an actual family!"

Harry reached out and grabbed the sides of Hagrid's head, tilting it up to look him in the eyes. "And every year, in the face of centaurs, monsters in the forest, dragons, the school abandoning me, basilisks, dementors and more trouble than should be possible, you've always stood by me and been here with tea and a warm place to sit when I needed someone to talk to."

Harry smiled. "Hagrid, you are ten, no, _twenty_ times the man Albus Dumbledore _wishes_ he could be, and I am grateful every day that you are, and if I have any say will always be my friend."

-

Hermione looked at Harry with misty eyes, and Harry managed a blush. "Er… yeah."

"Harry… that was beautiful."

"Well… it's true. Hagrid's a great friend, even if he thinks dragons are cuddly and giant spiders are cute."

Hermione smiled and sniffed, rubbing at her eyes briefly. "What happened then?"

"Near-death by hugging. I thought he was going to squeeze me until I turned into diamonds."

Hermione slapped his arm lightly. "Harry…"

"Okay okay, we just talked for a while. He's still grateful to Dumbledore for all he's done, but I don't think he'll ever be his man again. After talking about the dragon in the First Task a bit, he gave me a few rock cakes and I headed back up to see you i nthe kitchens."

"...But you weren't carrying any."

Harry looked a bit sheepish. "Well… I found out that they skip really well on the Black Lake…"

"Harry!"

"What? The giant squid liked them!"

As they finally made it to the Gryffindor Tower, Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that, while he did gather stares, he wasn't mobbed by dozens of questions. However, that might have been because a small wooden box had been set up in the far corner with the legend; "Ask Harry, the Boy-Who-Really-Can't-Get-A-Break!"

It was full to bursting.

He glanced at the twins, sitting near the fire with Neville, who shrugged innocently.

"Your doing, gentlemen?" Harry asked.

"We admit nothing!" They chorused.

"Didn't see you at dinner." George (maybe) said.

"Wanted to avoid some questions… and since I'd already been attacked by the Slytherins earlier I felt I'd dangled my feet in the fire once too often today." Harry said irritably.

To his and Hermione's surprise several house members around the room snickered at that.

"...Am I missing a joke here?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, nothing much." Fred said with a wide grin.

"Just a certain Gryffindor," George continued

"Who we are surprised to find doesn't clang when he walks,"

"From those brass quaffles he's got between his legs-"

"Ew." Hermione said flatly, to the amusement of the room.

Fried picked it up without missing a beat. "-going up the staff table,"

"And calling Snape out," George echoed with an eager face,

" _In front of all three schools!"_ the pair exultantly finished, collapsing into laughter along with most of the other Gryffindors.

Harry and Hermione gaped. "Really?! Who had the guts to do that?!"

All heads turned toward the mildly pudgy and rapidly-reddening face of Neville Longbottom.

Hermione's jaw dropped open, while Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mate? Got something you want to tell us about?"

Neville squirmed a little under the attention. "I didn't actually call him out…"

"No, Krum did that." George chimed in.

"With great enthusiasm too!"

"Krum!?" Harry and Hermione exclaimed in shock.

"Oh yes indeed!"

"We're thinking about giving him a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"And making him an honorary Gryffindor,"

"But Neville got the ball rolling,"

"Or big brass balls, if you prefer."

Harry sighed and sat down. "Okay, please start at the beginning."


	4. Not-So-Cowardly Lion

_***Flashback, the Great Hall that evening***_

The hall, much like earlier that day, was abuzz with people debating in fierce whispers. Rumors and suppositions swirled about the hall like leaves in a cyclone as all four houses and all three schools pondered what was going to happen in regards to Harry Potter.

Harry would have been mildly gratified to know that a lot of people were starting to piece together that there was little concrete information on his life outside of Hogwarts… and not much inside it, to be honest. If the oath had been genuine, then someone had a lot of explaining to do.

On top of that, many students (and a few teachers) realized they had not treated Harry all that well over the years, particularly during the Heir of Slytherin debacle… and on that note, did he say he killed a basilisk with a _sword?!_

Even if Harry had shown up, the sheer level of conversation and debate happening would have meant he likely could have got to his table unmolested before anyone realized he had entered… and a few were hoping for just that, with Dumbledore and McGonagall at the head table looking at the front doors worriedly, hoping that Mister Potter would put in an appearance. Dumbledore's frown was deep and worried through the whole of the meal, and perhaps that was why he didn't see the subtle tide in the ranks of the students.

It started at the Gryffindor table, around Neville Longbottom. The normally timid boy had a determined and even angry expression as he gestured animatedly to those nearby. Soon, his end of the Gryffindor table grew quiet as they listened. As whatever tale he was telling spread up the table, Parvati and Lavender went to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, respectively, and spoke to their friends there.

And, as so often happens in Hogwarts, the story originally told by Neville spread up and down the hall. One enterprising Durmstrang student picked it up from a passing Ravenclaw, and, scowling, whispered in Victor Krum's ear. As that was happening, the Beauxbatons students were holding court in their own manner.

By this time, several Professors had noticed the susurration. Flitwick and Sprout were both curious, but while there were dark looks toward the fourth years at the Slytherin table, no one had done anything particularly foolish… so they waited and watched.

Snape and McGonagall were both lost in thought on the subject of Harry Potter, one in rage and one in sorrow. Snape stabbed at his salad with vicious accuracy as he plotted on how to bring the foolish brat to heel, while McGonagall seemed a bit morose as she tried to devise a way to reconcile with Harry.

However, while most of the Hogwarts staff were ignorant or reluctant, Madame Maxine and Karkaroff were far more alert. Maxine could spot a juicy story making the rounds easily, as anyone who spent most of their time in the vicinity of teenage girls could. Karkaroff had learned long ago as a Death Eater to pay attention to those around you… and this was trouble brewing, plain and simple.

Both were about to rise and interrogate their students when Neville Longbottom stood from his seat at the Gryffindor table. The hall quieted considerably, which finally drew Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall from their individual reveries.

McGonagall looked perplexed as Neville strode up the aisle toward her position at the table. She'd never seen the lad act so… brazen! For a moment she was convinced that it was the boy's father Frank Longbottom on his way to do battle in the Wizengamot, he held himself so strongly!

Neville came to a halt in front of McGonagall. "Professor, as Head of Gryffindor House, I ask if you are aware of the altercation that took place by the Black Lake this afternoon."

McGonagall's brow furrowed. "I am afraid I have not heard of such a thing, Mister Longbottom."

Neville frowned, glancing at Dumbledore. "Harry Potter and myself were talking at the shore when over a dozen Slytherins with Draco Malfoy at their head came and demanded that Harry take back his words about Tom Riddle."

Dumbledore, who had been idly looking towards the doors, winced and refocused on Neville at the mention of Tom.

"After Harry reminded them that he could not take the words back, as they were part of his _confirmed_ oath," Neville emphasized, "Draco and the Slytherin's were incensed. When Harry commented that Riddle, as a half-blood, had created a situation that destroyed dozens of Pureblood houses, Draco attacked… along with every other Slytherin."

McGonagall's eyes widen. "How many were there?"

"Seventeen. Harry had to shield over thirty hexes, some of which were cutting curses."

The hall went deathly silent at that. With that much combined spell power, a cutting curse could be _lethal_ , even if it was one of the more benign cutting spells.

"When I cast my shield to support Harry, several hexes rebounded into the crowd and Snape came over, calling Harry out and deducting fifty points for attacking a student."

Snape rose, his face red with rage, but although Neville flinched at the movement- to the confusion of McGonagall- he continued in a steady voice. "I checked the point total, Professor, as well as the detention log. Not one of the Slytherins that attacked us have been punished in any way."

There were jeers from the Slytherin table, calling Neville a liar and a fraud and a squib, but the words were swallowed up in the face of a hundred angry glares towards the Slytherin table.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "What, precisely, do you wish me to do, Mister Longbottom?"

She felt a sudden weight on her as Neville said, in a perfectly serious voice, "I want you to enforce school discipline, _Deputy Headmistress McGonagall._ "

McGonagall felt all the eyes turn on her. "...Mister Longbottom, in-house discipline is normally handled by the Head of House-"

"Who," Neville interrupted, "has belittled and berated Harry on a near-constant basis for over three years and is known by the entire student body to practice outrageous favoritism with his House."

Snape fumed and snarled out, "Sit down, Longbottom! Your pathetic whining serves little purpose!"

Longbottom turned, and looked Snape directly in the eye. "This is a matter between me and my head of house, Professor." And turned back, to the amazement of all in the hall. Fred and George watched with utter glee on their faces as Snape's face started to redden even further.

McGonagall felt a sudden nervous tension rise as Neville turned back to her. "Mister Longbottom, it is not my place-"

"To enforce discipline? As a professor, head of house and _Deputy Headmistress_ of Hogwarts?" Neville said in a flat tone.

McGonagall's nerves stilled as she felt her hackles rise. "Enough, Mister Longbottom. This is neither the time nor place for such things, and is quite disrespectful!"

She was the second person that day to see the rare sight of a thoroughly _angry_ Neville Longbottom… and behind him, she was shocked to see much of Gryffindor had similar expressions. She knew, then and there, that she had failed a critical test in their eyes.

"Very well, Professor." Neville said, and McGonagall flinched at the coldness of his tone as he turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, it seems I must appeal to you for justice in this."

Dumbledore spread his hands genially. "Come now, my boy, this is all-"

"A misunderstanding?"

Dumbledore found himself hesitating, remembering the rage on the boy's face earlier that day… similar to the expression he wore now. "Ah… well, I'm afraid that without Mister Potter here to corroborate your story that my hands are tied-"

Jeers and shouts of dismay started to echo through the hall, and Neville was opening his mouth to say something when, from the Slytherin table-

"I saw zis, 'Eadmaster Dumbledore."

Heads snapped around to see Victor Krum rise from the Slytherin table, his dark eyes narrowed. "My friends and I, ve are out on deck of Durmstrang's ship, speaking of your school, ven suddenly ve are hearing shouting on ze shore nearby. We is seeing Mister Potter surrounded wif Mister Longbottom there," he gestured lazily to Neville, "and he is hafing vords with zis one." He turned and pointed to an impressively pale Draco Malfoy. "Ve is not hearing vords, but ve is seeing zis one and zese… _strakhlivets_... zese _cowards_ be casting zere curses." Victor said with a disgusted glare toward the clump of students around Malfoy, who varied from indignation to terror to sneers of disdain.

Dumbledore paused, obviously not expecting that. "Ah… well… unfortunately, as you are not students at Hogwarts, your testimony is unreliable. You could be attempting to aid Mister Potter as a fellow champion-"

"Indeed, zat is vhat I am doing, but I am no liar, Headmaster." Victor said with clarity and purpose. "Furthermore, ve drew wands and came to aid Mister Potter, but Mister Longbottom defended him quite vell." Victor gave Neville a small nod of respect, which cracked Neville's noble bearing and had him sporting a sheepish smile before nodding back. "Zen I saw zis man," he pointed to Snape. "Berate Mister Potter for attacking students, ven Potter did no such thing during whole… _mamka_ …" a few Durmstrang students smirked or rolled their eyes at the word. "Ah, during _enormous_ mess. He scowled and shouted until Mister Potter made oath that he did not attack the students… and I vill witness zat oath as confirmed. Zen he shouted and scowled more."

A few students laughed at that, and Snape looked like he wanted to shout down Krum… but Krum wasn't a Hogwarts student that he could simply belittle into silence.

Krum glared at the potion master. "You disgust me, Mister Snip. In Durmstrang, ve are hardy people and classes match us, but no Durmstrang teacher vould ever even _think_ of acting as… ah, what is the vord… _abusive_ as you are to students!"

He turned back to Dumbledore. "Zis is vhat vas seen, and I vill give my own oath to zat, if needed!"

To say Dumbledore was bewildered would be like saying a Sahara was maybe a little dusty around the edges. "Ah… well, in that case then, I suppose that ten points from each participating student for this is appropriate."

The hourglass for Slytherin immediately nearly drained itself, to groans from the green-clad members of the student body. However, Neville was unappeased. "And?"

Dumbledore blinked. "And what, Mister Longbottom?"

"You aren't seriously going to leave it at that?"

"That's over a hundred and fifty points, Mister Longbottom."

"Who bloody cares about _points?_ " Neville said with exasperation. "Points don't matter! It's all for a silly cup at the end of the year for someone to hang in their office! _Sod_ the bloody points!"

"Mister Longbottom! Language!" McGonagall exclaimed with a scowl… and was utterly ignored, to her surprise.

Dumbledore looked at Mister Longbottom with apprehension. "Well, what on earth do you think is appropriate, Mister Longbottom?"

"Detentions, suspensions, permanent notes in their records, limited wand priveleges… something!"

"That seems a little harsh, Mister Longbottom."

"Thirty-odd curses on one fourth year who's already been attacked and bullied for three years is harsher still, Headmaster."

The chorus of assent from the assembled students had Dumbledore quite unnerved… but he shook his head. "Nevertheless, Mister Longbottom, their current punishment will stand."

Bedlam. Students shouted, yelled, cursed, and demanded greater punishment… the teachers looked visibly unnerved at the evolving riot that appeared to be taking shape. Even the Slytherins seemed to be angry at members of their own house! However, a cannon blast brought their attention back to Krum, holding his wand aloft.

"Comrades, zis is not proper. Headmaster is head for reason. His punishment, ve must abide by." There was a chorus of groans and mutterings that accompanied that, but the staff table relaxed in relief.

"However, until such time as I feel zese cowards haf been punished properly…" Victor said, stepping over the bench. "I vill not share my table with zem."

And the hall watched with shock as first Krum, then the rest of Durmstrang rose and split towards the three other tables, which magically expanded to accommodate their new occupants. The Slytherin table looked shockingly empty, and the house as a whole was glaring at a livid Malfoy and his cronies for not only costing them their hard-earned points, but more importantly the prestige of hosting one of the foremost magical schools in Europe at their table.

Dumbledore watched this happen with profound unease, looking to Karkaroff for aid, but finding no kind looks there. In fact, the entire staff table, including _Hagrid_ to his horror, were looking at him with extreme displeasure.

Neville simply bowed and said. "Very well, Professors. Good evening."

As he turned and headed back down towards his table, he heard the rumbling voice of Hagrid. "Twenty points ta Gryffindor fer standin' up fer yer friends."

Neville gave the half-giant a smile and quickly rejoined his year-mates, who met him with hearty applause, and Victor Krum, who met him with a handshake and an open seat next to him.

*** _Flashback ends***_

Harry and Hermione gaped at Neville, who had turned red up to his ears as the story was retold.

"As you can guess, Harrykins,"

"Our wee Neville is quite popular now!"

"I heard the girls were swooning in the hallways when he passed!"

"The suits of armor stood and bowed!"

"The portraits applauded!"

"The Lady of the Lake poked her hand out of the water to give him a big thumbs-up!"

Hermione threw a pillow at the pair before they could continue. "Oh enough of that!"

Harry noticed that Neville's blush had only deepened and found himself wondering if at least one of those claims were true.

Regardless, he stood and walked over to Neville. "Neville, remember what I said down by the lake?"

Neville looked up. "Yeah, Harry?"

"I think you might just be the best damn Gryffindor in the school now. I mean, I pretty much just threw a wobbler in the Great Hall, but you actually stood up to Snape, McGonagall, _and_ Dumbledore."

"We told him Harry, big brass ones." George said solemnly.

"Poor lad's probably going to get more fanmail than you!"

Neville shot the twins a look but smiled regardless. "Thanks Harry."

"No problem Neville. Thanks for sticking up for me. I probably need to head to bed, people are going to be asking a lot of questions tomorrow..." Harry glanced over to the overflowing question box in the corner and sighed. "At least it's not Skeeter rushing in with quill in hand." he grumbled.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh no, Harry, the Prophet! Someone's almost certainly sent to them, this is-" she started fretting.

Harry waved a hand and sighed. "I know, I know… that's a problem for tomorrow morning though. I'm gonna go rest up, I get a feeling it's going to be mental…"

After thanking Neville once again for his earlier help in evading Albus 'Can-muncher' Dumbledore, Harry bid his fellow Gryffindors good night, went to his dorm, ignoring the red-faced and frigid Ron, and went to bed.

**************** Author's Note *****************

I translated a few Bulgarian words for Krum, and I think I did okay with the accent... a bit tricky that. As always, please read and review!


	5. Of Mail and Meeting Minds

In the Great Hall the next morning, Harry thumped his head on the table.

 **BOY-WHO-LIVED SPEAKS OUT!** The paper on the table trumpeted for all to see. Somehow they'd gotten a picture of Harry shooting water into Dumbledore's face. Harry wondered if he could have it framed and sent to the goatbeard...

To be honest, the Prophet article, while over-dramatic, wasn't all that bad. There was mention of the Task on page two, and there Harry got called a rising dark lord for using Parseltongue and refusing to explain. Still, they got almost all the points from his little speech right, which hurt the 'rising dark lord' angle a bit, and Neville even got a mention later on for his stunt at last night's dinner. The quotes were spot on. Suspiciously so even, considering the chaos that followed… well, at least they had stopped screwing with him for now.

In any case, the true problem was the owls. Or more specifically, so many owls and letters that Harry's end of the breakfast table was literally covered. He was buried up to his neck in the things!

Hermione looked both mildly appalled at the sheer amount and thoroughly amused at Harry's grumpy reaction. "Would you like me to transfigure you a snorkel, Mister Potter?" she said, as deadpan as she could manage.

"Ha. Bloody. Ha." Harry grumbled, valiantly working an arm free to grab a letter. "...Oh good gods, this one is in French! When the bloody hell did my life story go international!?"

"Language Harry." Hermione said absently as she took a bite of her eggs.

Fred put on a show as he stroked an imaginary beard. "Well, if we were to guess,"

"The same time you made your confession in front of two visiting schools?" George finished.

Harry sighed. "Here, Hermione, can you tell me what it says?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and took the envelope, flicking it open and taking out the note. "Hmm… well, this woman wants to express that she's sorry that Britain has treated you so poorly, and says that France is certainly superior."

"Lovely."

"And to prove it, she's sent along…" Hermione's face went pink as she withdrew a pair of shrunken and _very_ lacy panties, which quickly expanded to full size.

Harry thumped his head on the desk with a groan even as the surrounding Gryffindors whistled and cheered, causing a small avalanche of mail onto Lee Jordan's plate, just across from him. "I wonder if it's too late to ask the nice dragon if she'd eat me."

"Oh! Speaking of, Harry, they're taking them away later on tonight, maybe you should go visit her one more time and thank her?" Hermione said, gingerly setting the envelope to one side with the frilly underwear tucked inside.

Harry beamed. "Great idea, Hermione! I could introduce you, if you'd like!"

George managed not to smile as he replied; "Now Harry, bringing a girl home to meet your dragon is a very serious affair."

Hermione pinked as Harry lazily flipped the V-sign at George. "I am curious as to why I'm getting fan-mail now. I mean, I never got any before."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Neville asked, frowning.

"Just that, I've never gotten anything other than from a few classmates, the Ministry, or the Hogwarts faculty."

Hermione cocked her head. "That… doesn't sound right."

Neville's eyes widened. "Wait, Harry, didn't you get statements of your accounts from Gringotts?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Why? Should I have?"

There was a synchronized dropping of jaws. "Harry." Neville said worriedly. "Gringotts mail is sacrosanct. You do not mess with it, on pain of… well, pain. And there's no chance of Gringotts owls getting lost, they're the best there is."

Hedwig chose that moment to swoop low and peck at Neville, to the amusement of all.

"Okay okay! Not you, Hedwig!" Neville said, offering up his bacon as a sacrifice, which Hedwig gladly took.

Harry laughed, but then turned serious. "...Maybe I should write them. Someone got a bit of parchment?"

Five minutes later, Hedwig was winging out of the Great Hall.

"Well, we'll see what happens there. In the meantime, what do I do about-"

"I see you're as much of a glory-hound as ever, Potter!" came the not-at-all-sultry tones of Draco Malfoy.

Harry kept talking as if no one had spoken. "-these bloody letters? I mean, if all of them are like that one…" he said, pointing to the one next to Hermione… which Draco, irritated at being ignored, immediately snatched up.

"Let's see what your dear admirer's sent you-" Draco started, but paused in shock as he drew out the lacy undergarments.

Harry turned around. "Hm? Oh, you can keep them Draco. I think they're your size."

The twins, and most of those watching, cracked up laughing. Draco reddened and whipped out his wand-

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Draco, and several others, paled as Professor Moody hobbled up the aisle at high speed, followed closely by McGonagall. "Did the first lesson not sink in?! Maybe I should turn ya into a flea this time-"

"Alastor, NO! We talked about this!" McGonagall said sternly, but came up short. "Mister Malfoy! _What_ are you holding there!?"

Draco looked down in shock at the underwear in his hand. "I-it's Potter's, not mine!"

"Not my style Draco. I prefer something a bit…" Harry eyed the underwear with raised eyebrows. "...looser, for one."

Fred and George were crying tears of mirth and gasping for air, while Neville and Hermione were desperately trying to keep blank faces.

"Mister Potter, _is_ that article yours?"

"No, Professor. It seems I have fans overseas who wish to show their appreciation. Hermione discovered that piece and immediately put it back in its envelope, as she was right to do," Hermione blushes but looks pleased at Harry's assertion. "But then Malfoy, not liking that I was ignoring his umpteenth attempt to insult and berate me, snatched MY private mail away to parade it around… and pulled that out. Then he pulled his wand."

The other Gryffindors nodded, as did the surrounding students. Moody looked at the letter pile with suspicion. "Careful Potter, who knows what could be hidden in there…"

"A matching bra, one would hope!" called some wag from farther up the table, causing a chorus of laughter, to the obvious displeasure of McGonagall.

"I see. Mister Malfoy, thirty points from Slytherin for drawing your wand on another student, stealing their mail, and airing those… _unmentionables_ in public, as well as a detention with Mister Filch! Now go!"

Draco scowled and stomped away, but a quiet cough from Moody had him running back and giving the letter and panties over with a red face, causing even more laughs.

McGonagall turned to Harry. "Mister Potter-"

Neville and the twins suddenly tensed, as did much of the Gryffindor table, eyeing the professor warily, to her surprise. "What on earth is the matter?"

"Professor, Harry has a tendency to be dragged into things whether he wants to be or not." Neville said mildly… but still didn't relax.

"And since the staff hasn't helped him out all that much,"

"We will." the twins intoned with a rather dire look for the normally jocular brothers. McGonagall looks at the table in confusion but sees surprising solidarity. She coughs. "Mister Potter, the Headmaster would like to speak to you after breakfast."

"On what topic, Professor?" Harry asked with a mild expression.

"I do not know, Mister Potter." McGonagall replied.

Harry sighed. "What do you all think? Should I go?"

McGonagall frowned. "Mister Potter, you should not keep the Headmaster waiting."

Harry turned. "Professor, I'm pretty sure I know what this meeting is about. As it's almost certainly not about schoolwork or my academics, he has little authority to force me into a meeting. And to be frank, I'm not sure if I can talk to him at the moment without losing my temper and I don't want to do that."

Hermione bit her lip. "Still Harry, I think you should go… no, hear me out!" She quickly added as Harry turned with a disgruntled look. "You're going to have to do it eventually, and he's going to keep trying to talk to you…"

The others nodded. "I mean, he was looking out for you all during dinner yesterday." Neville pointed out.

"Best get it over with Harrikins."

"Before he sets Snape on you again."

Harry hesitantly nodded. "I guess…" he turns to McGonagall. "Professor, will you come with me?"

"What?"

"As a member of Gryffindor House, I'm asking if you will supervise my meeting with the Headmaster, as is my right under the school charter."

McGonagall blinked in surprise and glanced at the Weasley twins… who whistled innocently. More disturbing though was the look on the faces of the other Gryffindors… they looked resigned, dismissive.

It hit McGonagall at that moment that the majority of her house thought that she wouldn't step in to help Mister Potter… perhaps not any of them!

Horrified at her revelation, she managed to say in a hoarse tone, "I will certainly accompany you, Mister Potter."

There were a few raised eyebrows, but the fact that even her helping a student was quickly dismissed made the Deputy Headmistress' heart break just a little.

Harry rose. "Thanks Professor. Let's go... and the rest of you lot, don't peek at my mail!"

The walk to the gargoyle was tense, and neither spoke as the gargoyle smoothly stepped aside at the mention of 'Three Musketeers'. Harry paused at the doorway, looking hesitant.

"Is something the matter, Mister Potter?"

"So many things, but most of them don't matter right now." he mumbled.

McGonagall looked at the boy, who had done things his parents would be so proud of and endured things that would have horrified them to their core. Reaching a decision, she laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, startling the young man out of his reverie.

"Mister Potter, I am afraid that I owe you an apology… no, many apologies, for both your placement and your treatment at this school. I have failed you, and I begin to believe I have been failing my House far longer than that."

She squeezed his shoulder. "But, Mister Potter… Harry." she corrected, her normally stern expression softening for a moment. "If you feel unsafe, and if you feel Hogwarts is no longer your home, I will assist you in finding a new one in any way that I can… starting in this meeting."

Harry looked like he'd been hit with a brick, looking at McGonagall with confusion and shock.

"Now collect yourself Mister Potter, and do try to keep your temper in check… unless it is needed."

With that she pushed open the door, and gently urged him into the office. Dumbledore was at his desk, and immediately glanced up. "Ah, Harry my boy-"

Harry winced, and both adults picked up on it immediately. "Harry? What's wrong?" Dumbledore asked, looking rather surprised at the pained look on his face, head bowed.

"...That's what my relatives call me."

"Harry?"

"No. 'Boy'. I can't remember them ever using my name in private."

McGonagall's expression sharpened in distaste, while Dumbledore remained confused. "Come now Harry, surely you exaggerate-"

Dumbledore flinched back in surprise as Harry's head whipped up and two piercing green pricks of anger burrowed into his own twinkling eyes. "Do I need to swear _another_ oath to convince you, Headmaster?" Harry said, fists clenched.

Dumbledore blinked, and reassumed his grandfatherly persona. "Ah… no, I don't think that will be necessary. Minerva, you may see to your other duties."

"Mister Potter has requested my presence in this meeting as his Head of House, Headmaster." McGonagall replied immediately and without hesitation. She was pleased to see Harry's posture relax slightly, though he was obviously still on edge.

Dumbledore frowned and looked like he was going to comment… then leaned back in his chair. "Very well. Please take a seat, Harry."

Harry slowly sat across from Dumbledore, hands clutching the armrests. McGonagall conjured a comfortable armchair for herself before sitting next to him.

As Harry glanced restlessly around the office, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry, there are a number of things about yesterday's happenings that are deeply troubling."

Harry nodded. "I agree."

Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps we should start at the First Task? I was most disturbed, as were many others, when you started to speak Parseltongue."

"As I said in the hall, I didn't know dragons could understand it."

"Quite, but I would like to know what precisely you said to it to convince it to give you the egg."

"I didn't try to convince it. I thought I was going to die."

McGonagall and Dumbledore both looked at Harry with horror. "Harry, why on earth would you think that?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore with tired, angry eyes. "Other than everything I mentioned in the Great Hall? How about the fact that I'm three years younger than the other Champions? Or that no one other than Hermione tried to help me?"

"Harry, the rules-"

" _Sod the bloody rules!"_ Harry shouted. "If I wasn't such good friends with Hagrid, I would have gone into that task blind! I told Cedric, but neither Fleur or Krum seemed all that surprised themselves! Why didn't _one_ of the teachers try to help me? Oh, right, they all thought I was a cheat!"

"Back to your original question, if the dragon had managed to get a good bite on me, how exactly would you have prevented me from dying? What if it had breathed fire on me and I couldn't dodge? What if it clubbed me with its tail? Bloody hell, what if it just _sat_ on me?"

"The dragon tamers and I would have intervened, Harry."

"And precisely how fast can you stun a dragon, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "We're getting off track, Harry. What did you say to the dragon, if you didn't try to convince it to give you the egg?"

Harry shrugged, noticing that Dumbledore didn't answer his question. "I vented."

"Pardon?"

Harry explained how he had complained of his life, his sorrows, his pains to the dragon. Dumbledore was stony-faced by the end and McGonagall was holding back tears.

"Harry my-" Dumbledore paused at Harry's sudden glare before starting again. "Why didn't you speak with me or McGonagall about this?"

"You _put_ me there, sir. And you never listened when I asked not to go back."

Both adults were silent at that, and harry leaned back in his chair. "So. What else, Headmaster?"

"Ah, yes… what did the dragon say to you in the nest."

Harry tensed. "...nothing that would concern you, Headmaster."

"I must insist, Harry, it could be-"

"It _is_ the only token of motherly affection anyone outside of Mrs. Weasley has ever offered me, and it is for _me._ Please don't ask again."

Dumbledore seemed disappointed, but saw Harry wouldn't budge. He sighed and continued on. "Then with that taken care of, I suppose I should ask what happened next."

Harry told him about Ron's not-apology and talking to Hermione and coming up with the plan to speak in the Great Hall.

"Harry, you must learn to forgive-" Dumbledore was distracted when Harry snorted.

"Sorry, Hermione owes me five sickles."

Dumbledore pressed on. "I'm sure Mister Weasley is sorry for his actions."

"Maybe. But he called me a liar, a cheater, and tried to come back like nothing happened. I've let too much go, Headmaster, and I won't let him call himself my friend unless he makes a proper apology."

"Now Harry, surely the fact that he's willing to make up means something?"

"It means nothing when _he_ was the one to break it off, sir. He knew me, and he knew I never wanted to be in this bloody clusterf-" he glanced at the unimpressed face of McGonagall. "-this mess of a tournament. If he can swallow his pride and jealousy to apologize and show me he knows _why_ he needs to apologize, then I'll welcome him back. Until then, he can kiss a malaclaw."

Dumbledore seemed a little bewildered. "Harry-"

"Sir, my friends are my business. What else did you want to speak about?"

Dumbledore sighed and then turned grave. "Harry, what you did in the Great Hall was reckless and potentially dangerous."

"Dangerous maybe, but I did think it through. I had Hermione double check my wording."

"Revealing Voldemort's true history will likely incense his followers, Harry."

"Maybe, but it might also prevent students here from being his next generation of servants. You haven't done anything with the information, so I took a chance." Harry replied, sounding bored. McGonagall actually nodded at that, she had been worried about such a problem herself.

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, that was utterly reckless-"

"And there's no taking it back. What else?"

Dumbledore frowned at the blatant disrespect. "Well, your revelation of Sirius Black's innocence is another problem."

Harry looked at Dumbledore unbelievingly. "How in the blazing blue hells-"

"Mister Potter." McGonagall said gently but firmly.

Harry battled his temper. "How, Headmaster, is informing the population that my godfather was wrongfully arrested and held without trial a problem?"

"It implies that you had something to do with his escape from custody, and with recent articles in the Prophet it might pull your own character down further that you are associating with an alleged criminal."

"And the fact that you haven't called for a trial for him has nothing to do with that, does it sir?" Harry replied acidly.

"Mister Potter!" Mcgonagall barked, but Dumbledore sighed and pinched his nose. "I could not bring him in without risking my position and his life, Harry."

"Bollocks." Harry said, steamrolling over McGonagall's shocked gasp and incoming recrimination. "We have an invisibility cloak, five people to testify under oath that Pettigrew is the guilty party, and two former Marauders. We could _literally_ sneak Sirius into the courtroom."

"Which is both foolhardy and risky-"

"It's not your risk alone to take!" Harry leaped out of his seat, slamming his palms against Dumbledore's desk. "I'm willing to risk anything to be free of the Dursleys, headmaster! Sirius is living in a cave eating rats because he wants to be close and help me with the tournament! A tournament that YOU set up the protections for, by the way!" Harry shouted.

"Mister Potter, calm down!" McGonagall reprimanded sharply. "Shouting gets us nowhere!"

Harry visibly struggled to bottle his temper again and sat back down, glaring at the Headmaster, who seemed shocked at Harry's sudden temper.

Still he coughed. "On that note Harry, about your placement… I am truly sorry."

Harry just looked at him for a while. "...And?"

Dumbledore cocked his head. "And what, Harry?"

"What do you intend to do about it?"

McGonagall saw it first. She'd seen it both James and Lily when they had gone to school. Different in so many ways, but they both got angry in the same manner. They'd shout and rave against injustices when they were annoyed or irritated…

"Well, I shall be speaking with your aunt and uncle on their deplorable treatment, and when you return this summer I should-"

...but when they were not just angry but _furious_ , they'd go still and cold.

McGonagall rose from her chair immediately. "Albus, you cannot mean that! You expect Harry to go back to that horrible place? I told you all those years ago, they are the worst sort of muggles- no, the worst sort of _people!_ "

She saw Harry shift slightly out of the corner of her eye, and inwardly hoped that she'd headed him off-

"Minerva, he must return. It is the only place where he is safe."

McGonagall winced at the words, and turned to look at Harry.

He was utterly immobile. He looked like a statue that had been carved into the chair he sat in. His entire body was tensed, and his eyes were locked on Dumbledore and, to McGonagall's surprise, glowing faintly, the green irises standing out under his messy hair.

"...Safe?" Harry whispered, quietly.

"Yes, Harry. There are wards that prevent you from being found by anyone magical unless they both know the location and mean you no harm. Similar to a Fidelius charm, but more flexible."

"...ah. That's why Lupin never checked up on me. Why none of my parents' supposed friends checked up on me. You never told them where I lived." his tone was hollow and heavy, and McGonagall unconsciously took a step back. The air in the office began to feel greasy and uncomfortable.

Dumbledore nodded. "I knew the Dursleys would not wish to be disturbed by our world, so I kept your location secret."

"...You knew they didn't like magic?"

"Yes, but I knew they would take care of you. Blood looks after blood."

"...How do the wards work, exactly?"

Mildly relieved that Harry seemed to have moved away from his own involvement at placing him with the Dursleys, Dumbledore leaned back in the chair. "They are based on love within the home, and on the fact that you call it your home-"

Harry jerked slightly. Again. Then a laugh bubbled to his lips, but it sounded broken and scornful. "Home? Love? That place never had either to offer me. That… _house_ has NEVER been and NEVER will be my home!"

Dumbledore's eyes widened and he glanced over to a wall of silver instruments, which one by one all began to sputter. "Harry, I'm sure that you can find some affection for your relativ-"

The grand oak desk between the two wizards actually began to bubble, the wood warping and popping. A moment later, an enormous _CRACK_ sounded as the desk collapsed into splinters!

McGonagall turned to see Harry slowly stand. "I will not go back. Not ever. That place is no home of mine!"

The instruments on the wall wailed and fell silent and Dumbledore stifled a wince. "Harry, I'm afraid that you must-"

"What possible authority do you have to make me go there, _Headmaster?_ " Harry growled, clenching fists hard enough that McGonagall was sure there'd be bruises.

Dumbledore straightened. "I am your magical guardian, Harry. Until you come of age, of course." he said in a austere and confident tone, attempting to bring Harry around.

Harry looked at him blankly.. "You're my guardian."

"Yes, Harry."

"Then, Mister Dumbledore, please explain to me why you did not show up to check up on me once in _fourteen years._ Please tell me why I never knew about the truth of my parents, that magic existed, that I had money left to me, _anything!_ _Explain that to me, old man!"_ The silver instruments on the wall actually disintegrated into dust at that accusation.

Dumbledore's mouth fell open as he tried to form a rebuttal. After a moment, he closed it, deciding silence was the better option.

Harry inhaled, ready to keep going, but a burst of flame over Dumbledore's ruined desk interrupted him. Fawkes flapped into being in front of him, singing softly, flying slow circles just above their heads.

Harry's cold expression softened and finally broke, leavign a very tired young man smiling weakly at the pheonix. "Hello Fawkes." he managed… before glancing down at the desk. "Er… sorry about that." He looked around the room and saw that, while not as bad as the desk, several fixtures were bent, chipped, or even burnt slightly. Harry sighed when he realized that Fawkes' perch had been reduced to twisted metal. "Sorry Fawkes. I'll send for a new one."

Fawkes trilled consolingly, landing on Harry's shoulder and nudging him gently with his beak. Harry nodded and quickly pulled himself together, looking across at Dumbledore. "Sir, at the moment I'm too angry to continue, and I think doing so would wreck your office even more. So instead of just yelling like I would have last year, I'm going to just say this…"

Harry took a deep breath and glared at the headmaster. "As far as I'm concerned, you've failed me in ways I can't begin to think about, headmaster. You're the one that told me that our choices show who we truly are, and I have to say that yours frankly disgust me."

Dumbledore looked as if someone had told him there were no more lemon drops in the world. "Harry, my boy-"

" _No._ You've lost all right to use my first name, to call me 'my boy', to… to have ANY kind of relationship with me! I appreciate your previous advice and help, but this is… this is beyond the pale. Call me 'Mister Potter' from now on, you haven't earned the right to use my first name!"

Dumbledore looked stricken as Fawkes let out a quick few notes, calming Harry. "My decision stands, I still intend to leave Hogwarts when the year is up unless sweeping changes are made. I bet Sirius could prove his innocence in France, and I could convince Hermione to come with me to Beauxbatons if I asked. Frankly sir, you seem to think I'll just follow your word, and until you realize I'm not playing games, I don't think we have anything else to speak about."

Harry turned and stormed to the door, before looking to McGonagall. "And Professor… thanks."

McGonagall nodded with red-rimmed eyes. "Of course, Mister Potter. Should you need further assistance… _please_ , come and speak to me."

Harry paused a moment before nodding hesitantly and descending down the stairs.

Dumbledore stared blankly at the door, mind awhirl. Glancing at the wall that had previously held the instruments used to keep track of the boy, he sighed as he realized that he had likely handled that as poorly as he possibly could have.

McGonagall stiffly sat in her chair. "Albus, what in the blazing blue hells were you thinking?"

"The wards can-" he sighed. " _Could have_ kept him safe, Minerva…"

"It takes more than physical safety to raise a young man, Albus! You need love, comfort, role models… and I would bet my hat that Harry had not a one of those!"

"He needed to be kept safe, Minerva! The Death Eaters were still out there, and still are!"

"And what precisely have you done to help that, Chief Warlock?" McGonagall replied scathingly. "Second chances for all save the one you seem so willing to sacrifice the happiness of! Tell me Albus, how many Death Eaters today seem repentant of their actions besides that petty, bitter man in our dungeons?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples. "Perhaps it's best we take some time to reflect, Minerva…"

"I think that would be wise. And here's another thing to reflect on Albus; I intend to back Mister Potter to the hilt on this."

"Minerva, he must-"

"He _must_ nothing, Albus! He's a young man who, quite rightfully, is scared of dying in this school! For excellent reason, considering this is the fourth year in a row that his life has been endangered on our watch! And I have had to take a long hard look at how I have treated him over the years, and I am _ashamed_ of what I have found… and from the sound of it, you should be too. Good day, headmaster."

With that, McGonagall stormed out of the office, leaving Dumbledore looking forlornly at the remnants of his desk, deep in thought.


	6. Teachable Moments

**CHAPTER 6**

McGonagall sat in her office, staring across at an alcove in the wall.

This alcove was present in the office of every Head of House, and would hold the Quidditch and House Cups that were given out at the end of every year. As she gazed upon the items she so often encouraged her charges to pursue, she thought over the state of Hogwarts.

The school had become quietly mutinous. Students glared at the staff with irritation and suspicion. Points were taken, but no one cared after Neville had pointed out how useless the system was during his dinnertime accusation. Detentions were issued, but a few brave souls refused to attend if it was given for petty reasons.

She had spoken with Filius and Pomona. Both had reported a sharp increase in students appealing disciplinary actions to them. Snape had become intolerable as dozens of his detentions were overturned.

Rather tellingly, however, very few Gryffindors were appealing to McGonagall. Instead, they moved through the hallways in groups, rallied around each other, and generally made it very hard for the teachers to discipline them.

But she received no notifications from them, no protests, no complaints.

The only conclusion she could come to, however painful, was that her students did not trust her to be on their side. Her aid to Mister Potter in the Headmaster's office had softened the glares she received, but receive them she did, nonetheless. Her own house had turned away from her.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. She had certainly failed that young man. The Dursleys, the bullying, and good gods, in three years and some scant months the poor boy had faced things that even she would balk at. And she had been of precisely no help.

The thought enkindled a spark of proper Scottish defiance within her. Now that she had stopped deluding herself, she had to act. So how could she begin to fix this?

Glancing to her bookshelf, she found her gaze slowly drawn away from the numerous advanced Tranfiguration texts and instead to a worn copy of the Hogwarts Charter and By-Laws.

Deftly flicking her wand, the book soared to her desk, where she immediately opened it and began to read.

* * *

Ron Weasley was having a ruddy awful day.

First, all his recent essays came back with Ds and Ps, since Hermione wouldn't do- er, _check_ his homework for him.

Second, Harry still wouldn't talk with him, and Ron was worried he'd actually meant what he said after the first task.

Third, his brothers had pranked his shoes so every time he took a step they would squeak the word 'prat,' 'git', 'tosser', or his least favorite, 'Mo-Ron'.

And finally, he couldn't stop thinking about everything Harry had said in front of everyone in the Great Hall.

Now Ron was many things, including thick, foolish, loud, rude and having the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, but one thing he did know a bit about due to his upbringing was magical oaths, since his dad worked in the Ministry. And he knew that everything Harry had said was true, indisputably so… if he knew what 'indisputably' meant.

He also had enough strategic sense to know that he had bollocked up big-time.

As much as it hurt his pride to admit, Harry had been right. He'd refused to apologize because he hadn't wanted to admit he was wrong about Harry entering the tournament, that he had abandoned his best mate out of petty jealousy when he should have _known_ someone was taking another crack at getting Harry killed, _again._

And now he was gonna leave. Ron's friend, his only _real_ friend, was going to leave Hogwarts because of everything that kept happening… and Ron found the idea of Harry leaving hurt more than expected.

Maybe he could apologize? It'd be embarrassing, yeah, but he might get his friend back… but would he keep him?

He paused and thought over the last few years. Frankly, sticking around Harry hadn't been all that good for his health… he'd broken his leg last year, nearly got obliviated and eaten by _giant spiders_ the year before, and gotten whacked on the head by giant chess pieces before that… after dealing with a ruddy big three-headed dog!

And Harry didn't want to play Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap much anymore, and there was no Quidditch to talk about this year…

Ron's jaw worked as he pondered over it, but it was hard to see the good sides of being Harry's best mate. He was an alright bloke, sure, but Ron didn't get much out of the deal…

Still, he did miss him… maybe they could be friends, but not proper mates?

Ron groaned and shook his head, unused to trying to figure this sort of stuff out like some girl going mental over what one person or the other said! Besides, it was nearly lunchtime. Maybe he could rope Dean and Seamus in for some Exploding Snap later…

* * *

Flitwick strolled into the Deputy Headmistress' office, mind abuzz. The last few days had been quite exciting for a number of reasons, but worrying as well.

The debacle of Harry Potter's rant to the dragon had been ill-recieved by the more perceptive staff members who had dealt with tearful, stressed teens. It had been obvious this was something that had been building for years… and frankly, Flitwick was amazed it hadn't happened sooner.

Couple that with his oath, and Longbottom's confrontation in the Great Hall, and now you had a school that was rapidly becoming a powder keg as the students lost faith in their headmaster and his deputy… certainly, it had made him reconsider his own priorities. He'd heard hints of some hazing from his Ravenclaws when it came to younger members, but with all that had happened he resolved to examine them more closely.

After all, life couldn't be all dancing pineapples and colorful sparks.

He was dragged from his thoughts by the sight of Pomona Sprout already sitting in the room. "Pomona? She called you as well?"

The normally cheerful woman was looking surprisingly tired, her happy demeanor nowhere to be seen. "Ah, hello Filius. Yes, she has, and I truly hope it's to discuss these past few days…" she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "My Puffs have been in an uproar. First, our Cedric gets into the tournament but is upstaged by young Mister Potter. Then, dozens of my students see the same Mister Potter nearly commit suicide by dragon. And then that oath in the Great Hall…" she shakes her head. "How did we not notice, Filius? My house has its fair share of downtrodden and unfortunate souls that crave affection, and I've had to call Magical Law Enforcement far more than I'd care to, reporting signs of abuse. How did I never notice Harry?"

Filius watched the woman and fought back the urge to sigh. Pomona had an enormous heart open to all… frankly, he was certain she could have given Lady Hufflepuff herself a run for her money when it came to compassion. But all the same, she often took blame she hadn't earned.

"None of that, Pomona." He said firmly, conjuring a handkerchief and passing it to the teary-eyed woman. "We could have been more vigilant, yes, and I certainly intend to increase my efforts when it comes to my own house, but we were not responsible for him. That is the fault of his guardians, Albus Dumbledore-"

"And myself." The two Heads of House turned to see Minerva McGonagall stride in, stony-faced. "I have failed that young man more than I can say. I have failed my House more than I thought possible! And I have failed this school, to my shame, for far longer than I can believe!" she intoned gravely as she sat at her desk. "And the time has come to move forward, and if Albus doesn't like it he can go suck a lemon drop!"

Both the Heads of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff watched in surprise and mild worry as their longtime friend worked herself up into a towering, indignant rage. "What, precisely, did you have in mind?" Pomona asked warily.

In answer, the formidable elder witch tossed a small book onto the table, dust flying off it as it landed. "How long has it been since either of you read the Hogwarts bylaws?"

Filius picked up the book and leafed through it with interest. "Oh, years now. At least a decade, and I admit I merely skimmed it at the time."

"The same. To be honest, taking care of my Puffs held priority over some silly rules…"

" _Magically enforced_ silly rules." McGonagall corrected. "We've always believed that the Headmaster has the ultimate last say in everything, but that is not true. If four of the six heads of the school push for something, they can overrule the Headmaster when it comes to discipline or safety of students or staff."

"Interesting… but unless I miss my count, Minerva, are there not only five of us senior staff? You, myself, Albus, Pomona and Snape." Flitwick said with distaste, recalling the man's unpleasant actions over the last few days.

Pomona caught on quickly. "But Minerva is both Deputy Headmistress _and_ Head of Gryffindor!"

"Precisely." Minerva said with satisfaction. "We have an opportunity to change this school for the better, here and now."

"And what of Albus? Can he not undo whatever we decree later?"

"Indeed, but he would need staff support to do so. There is another option, however; to appeal to Hogwarts itself."

All three professors shivered. Hogwarts was their home, and having all lived within the castle for over twenty years at the least, they were well aware that, to an extent, Hogwarts was alive, sentient, and loved its children… and would defend them if asked.

The trouble was that, at the end of the day, Hogwarts was _not_ human, and did _not_ have a human viewpoint. If called to render judgment it would do so… and show little mercy or compassion for those who were not students.

Each of the professors privately suspected as well, that if Hogwarts was called upon it would not hesitate to also judge for the last few years where the staff's security had been… less than stellar.

"In any case, I have some ideas, but I wished to talk to you two first. Albus has given too many chances to the undeserving, and now the students do not trust him, nor myself." McGonagall looked pained to admit that, but carried on. "So let us discuss ideas…"

The students would wonder where three Heads of House had wandered off to between classes all day, until dinner that night.

* * *

Harry was somewhat pissed off. This had not changed since he came out of Dumbledore's office about two hours ago and explained the situation to his friends. A combination of classes and sympathetic ears had made it better, and he had decided that the lunch break was the perfect time to go and introduce his friends to the Horntail.

Which led to now, with them right outside the encampment and dealing with a bored-looking wizard in glasses.

"I want to see the Horntail." Harry restated for what had to be the fourth time.

"And I've already told you kid, no. The dragon handlers are busy getting it and the others ready for the flight back-"

"She." Harry corrected with a scowl. "Not 'it'. She."

The man rolled his eyes. "It's a dumb beast. Who cares?"

"I care! And that 'dumb beast' is a hell of a lot smarter than some idiot bureaucrat with a clipboard!" Harry seethed.

Said 'idiot bureaucrat' glared. "Watch it kid, just because you're in the Tournament doesn't mean I have to take this-"

"Oh Merlin, shut UP!"

The assembled teens and the clipboard-wielder turned to see a scarred, muscular woman stomping towards them. "You're pissing off my dragons. Leave."

The bureaucrat smiled triumphantly. "Hear that? Get lost, brat."

"Not them. You." The woman said curtly. "You've been a proper pain in the ass all day and the girls are getting eager to chomp on you for your whiny voice."

Fred and George started laughing as the man reddened. "I am a member of the Ministry of-"

The woman's hand darted forward and dragged him close, cutting his words off with a squeak of fear. "I. Don't. Give. A. Shit. And unless you'd like to find out what _being_ dragon shit is like, I would take your own advice and _get lost,_ because if I hear you harassing _one_ more of my staff, my dragons, or anyone poking around, I will lock you in a feeding pen."

The petty clerk paled and nodded his understanding, fleeing as fast as he could the moment the woman let go.

Fred and George fell to their knees. "Teach us, O bossy one!"

"Teach us the way to properly smite uptight prats!"

Hermione huffed "Honestly…" as Ginny just sighed at her brothers' antics.

The woman glanced at the pair. "You're Charlie's reprobate brothers, hm?"

"Reprobates! She called us reprobates, Gred!"

"She did, Forge! Why, I could just swoon!"

"Me too, brother!"

The pair immediately did so, drawing snickers from some of the other handlers and students watching the scene and a tiny amused snort from the woman. "Cute. Come on then, she's been waiting."

Harry blinked at that. "She has?"

"Kid, when you work with dragons as long as I have then you learn what they want pretty damn quick. Else you end up with less bits than you started. And more burns."

Hermione cocked her head in confusion as they were led through the handler's camp, currently being broken down. "But you don't look that old, Miss."

"I'm no 'miss' girl, call me Wynn. And I've been working with dragons longer than anyone in this camp; two full decades."

"...that's all?" Hermione asked, confused.

Wynn glanced at her incredulously, then seemed to have an epiphany. "Ah, muggleborn, right? You probably haven't heard much about dragon handlers then. Namely, only a few of us live past sixty when most wizards live to be over a hundred."

 _Every_ teen's eyes widened at that, save for Ginny, Fred and George who chuckled at the look on their faces. "What, you think dragon handling was safe?"

"Dragon handlers are mental to the last."

Ginny nodded. "Mum had a proper row with Charlie when she found out he wanted to join them."

To Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Neville's surprise, Wynn nodded. "Yeah, sounds about right. We're understaffed, overworked, and constantly in danger. Pay is good, but good luck getting time to spend it."

"Then why bother?" Neville asked, unable to comprehend doing a job like that willingly.

Wynn pointed across the clearing of the camp to where the handlers were slowly coaxing the Welsh Green into its transport cage. "Look at that dragon and tell me what you see."

The teenagers regarded it duly, especially when it let out a gout of flame and flicked a handler with a claw, sending him flying back a few feet.

"A really deadly predator." Hermione whispered carefully.

"A bloody big lizard." George said.

"With a furnace for a belly." Fred added.

"Something I should NOT tickle." Ginny said weakly, trying to joke.

Neville didn't even speak, watching the creature with trepidation.

Harry however looked closer, remembering his encounter in the arena. The way the dragon moved, the way its scales shone and its eyes held a primal awareness…

"...they're magic." he said finally. "I mean, obviously they're magical, but they ARE magic too."

The others looked at him oddly. "What do you mean, Harry?" Ginny asked.

Harry hesitated. "...well… you've seen chickens and ferrets and other animals, yeah? Lions and bears and deadly non-magical beasts too." He gestured vaguely at the Welsh Green as it sullenly entered its cage. "But have you ever seen _anything_ , other than maybe Hogwarts itself, that you could just look at and think 'this, this is _real magic_ '?"

The others looked back at the dragons and seemed to take them in more carefully, while Wynn nodded in approval. "Got it in one, kid. Don't suppose you'd be looking for a job after Hogwarts?"

Harry blinked at the offer. "Er… I don't even know if I'm going to live through this tournament, to be honest."

The woman scoffed and clapped him on the back, nearly sending him tumbling into the dirt. "Please. If you can sweet-talk Spike you can handle a little school competition. Speaking of which…"

Neville gaped. "You named a nesting mother dragon Spike?"

"If it fits." Wynn shrugged. "In any case, here we are."

She pointed to a large pen where the dragon in question was curled up around her nest. "We leave her for last since she's the most ornery about getting put in a cage… and the most deadly. Right bitch, she is." she said matter-of-factly. "In any case, figure you can keep her from eating you all?"

Harry nodded, even as his companions looked less than eager to get closer. Wynn shrugged. "Good enough. See if you can calm her down some too, packing up's a pain without hauling her ass into gear."

She walked off, to Hermione's shock. "Wait, she's going to leave us with no supervision?"

George snorted. "What good would it do if she stuck around? Everyone's too busy packing up to prevent a bunch of wee lickle students from being crisped."

Fred nodded in agreement, but before he could expand upon his twin's words there was a heavy THUD as the lady of the hour appeared.

Now that Harry wasn't looking at her with dread and fear, he could take a moment to truly appreciate the Horntail's beauty. However, his friends were less sanguine, as Ginny, Neville and Hermione all went pale and Fred and George just gaped, speechless for once in their rambunctious lives.

The dragon's yellow eyes passed over the group, taking in each of them, and Harry suspected she was also looking at more than just their surface… but after a moment, she snorted a few wisps of flame.

Harry, remembering the end of the task, waited until the enormous mother looked upon him before bowing respectfully low. After a moment, the dragon inclined its head, and Harry hissed to it;

" _Good evening, miss. I wanted to visit one last time before you left."_

The matron lowered onto its forward haunches. " _ **Greetings, hatchling. Your wings are not so heavy this evening."**_ Harry blushed a little at that. " _Er, yeah. I took your advice and stood my ground that evening."_ " _ **So soon? Well done, hatchling. Did your enemies burn?"**_

Harry's eyes widened and he shook his head. " _N-no, no… they are not all my enemies."_

" _ **Then what purpose did you fulfill?"**_

Harry thought on that a moment, trying to translate to dragon-speak. " _The ones who dismissed me and called me false, they are now shamed. My... 'roar' was heard and some come to my aid now."_ he gestured to his friends. " _These ones however, they stood by me from the start, though I was too busy being a broody git to realize it at the time."_

The mother known as 'Spike' craned its neck to survey the group behind Harry. They all flinched, but they were proper Gryffindors, and soon found their spines and gazed back.

" _ **Hmm. A odd brood, hatchling. That one there, he smells of prey."**_ Spike intoned, flicking her neck towards Neville, who blanched but stood his ground.

" _Neville? He's… well, timid. I can see why you'd think that. But when my enemies tried to ambush me after I roared my defiance, he stood beside me and protected me when I was nearly injured by then. Then, afterwards, he roared even louder than I to everyone about it, and got almost everyone to rise against my enemies when the elders would do nothing."_

The dragon looked back to Neville, eyes glowing as it looked deep into Neville's own. The pudgy boy found himself feeling oddly relaxed… which was crazy, considering there was over ten tons of hot death staring him down.

" _ **A protector of the herd then."**_ She sniffed the air and rumbled. " _ **He smells of trees and soil."**_

Harry laughed, and the sound calmed the others. " _He loves to work with both. If he's not with his… 'herd' he's tending to any plant he can find."_

Spike snorted once in affirmation. " _ **...And those two? The ones that are the same?"**_ she rumbled at the twins.

" _They…"_ Harry paused, trying to think of how to describe them. "... _they are troublemakers, scoundrels, and bringers of mayhem for the amusement of all."_

Spike eyeballed Harry before rumbling again, and Harry knew she was chuckling. " _ **The small female behind them, their broodmate?"**_

" _Yes, and vicious in her own right."_ Harry stated firmly, remembering how quick Ginny was on the draw, particularly with her infamous Bat-Bogey hex.

Spike turned to look at Hermione last and seemed confused. " _ **...why does she look at me so?"**_

Harry glanced at Hermione and snorted as she was clearly biting back the urge to ask a dozen questions. " _She seeks knowledge and wishes to ask many questions."_

" _ **Hmph. Pointless. She would be better served finding the answers herself than asking. A foolish hatchling."**_

Harry glared at that. " _She is the one who has helped me above all others, no matter the cost to her and against my own stupidity. Do not DARE disrespect her!"_

The Gryffindors looked anxiously at Harry as he growled something at the dragon and the enormous creature glared at him. A moment later, however, she reluctantly nodded once. " _ **...Very well. I will answer one question from each, if they like, if you will speak to my servant about placing my eggs with me as we travel."**_

Harry nodded quickly before turning back. "Okay guys, she says you can each ask her one question and I can translate for you."

All the Gryffindors perked up at that, and Hermione leapt forward first… only to be stymied by the limit. "But Harry…"

"Hermione, she's impatient and antsy about the journey. Don't push."

Hermione huffed, but after a moment asked; "W-well, since you're clearly intelligent… why do you allow wizards to treat you like this? Why not attempt to form your own society?"

Harry turned back and relayed the question… and then growled at the dragons answer. There was a quick and grumpy exchange before Harry winced and nodded. "Er… she…" he sighed. "She says you're a foolish hatchling for asking."

" _WHAT!?"_ Hermione shouted indignantly, but a low rumble from Spike had her quickly shrink back.

"Um… and these are _her_ words, not mine… she says that 'We are _dragons,_ foolish hatchling. What care we for society? We are each a nation unto ourselves. We _allow_ humans to treat us so because they offer tribute in exchange.'" Harry shrugged. "I think she means food and care."

"But…"

"One question, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, but nodded, looking a bit disgruntled.

The others stepped up to ask their own questions. The twins asked about dragon pranks and all were surprised that dragons actually pranked each other and their hatchlings on occasion, as a way to show displeasure or teach a lesson. Of course, being dragons, the nature of the pranks were often more violent and ruthless than either twin was comfortable with…

Ginny asked her how to be a good mother to her… ah, 'future hatchlings.' Spike actually gave an approving nod at that. " _ **Watch this one carefully, young Harry, she knows the important things in life. Tell her, a good mother is one that gives their hatchlings all that they need; but teaches them to EARN what they want."**_

Harry relayed this dutifully, and Ginny blushed at the mother's praise and frowned at her advice, thinking deeply.

Neville was last, coming forth with a worried face but firm spine. "Mother Dragon… how can I become strong to protect my… herd?"

When Harry relayed the question, Spike gave him a deadpan look before shaking her head. Neville glanced at harry worriedly. "What? Is it impossible?"

"No Neville! Not at all! She… er…" Harry wrestled with his words a moment. "...she says that you're a silly hatchling to even ask."

"Why?" Neville asked, almost hurt by the words.

"Because she says you are already strong." Harry said with a small smile, enjoying the gobsmacked look on the boy's round face. Turning back to the mother, he bowed low. " _ **Thank you for your advice and guidance, Mother Spike."**_

" _ **Is that what they call me? I like it."**_ the lady in question preened. " _ **Go then, hatchlings. And you, speaker, must come and visit in the future. There is much you could teach my hatchlings."**_

Harry blushed but quickly nodded his agreement. " _ **One last thing; my friend, Hagrid, the half-giant who aided your servants, hatched an egg some years ago and sent the hatchling to your lands where it could grow. Do you know of them?"**_

" _ **Ah yes… I know her well. She is looking for a mate, in fact. She is… rather strange though."**_

" _ **How so?"**_ Harry asked, curious about the fate of 'Norbert', or, apparently, 'Norberta'.

The dragon responded. Ginny, the Twins, Hermione and Neville were all shocked to see Harry firmly clamping down on his jaw with a neutral expression. He bowed to the mother again, who nodded her head in return, and went to speak with Wynn.

A few minutes later, the dragons were moving back to the reserve, and it was only after they were out of sight that Ginny turned to Harry. "Are you alright, Harry? You-"

She was interrupted as Harry took a deep breath and began _laughing_ , uproariously, falling to the ground in a fit of hilarity.

Fred and George looked down at him. "Would you mind,"

"Letting us in on the joke, Harrikins?"

Harry snickered and managed to contain himself. "S-so, remember that dragon we smuggled out in First Year?"

"Yeah, Charlie told us all about it." Ginny replied, while Hermione whispered a shortened version to Neville.

"S-so first off, 'Norbert' is a she." he giggled, drawing smiles from the Weasleys and an exasperated sigh from Hermione. "But apparently, Norberta is considered pretty odd by the other dragons."

"Why, Harry? Is she hurt? Unhealthy?"

"No, no! See, she apparently is curious about humans. To the point where she will, on occasion, fly over to dragon handlers and just… watch them. For hours at a time."

The bewildered faces of his friends made Harry snort in mirth. "And she has been known to prod and poke things that are left around the reserve and has apparently built up a hoard of discarded bottles, used portkeys, and whatever else she can get her hands on."

The Weasleys were giggling now, and Hermione was flabbergasted. Neville had to ask; "Why?"

Harry beamed. "Apparently, she insists that wizards are 'poor, misunderstood creatures' that 'wouldn't hurt a fly' and 'aren't a danger to anyone,' and wants to understand them! Sound familiar?"

Jaws dropped. "You _must_ be joking." Hermione said flatly.

"Harrikins, are you saying," Fred began.

"That there is, in fact, a large, kleptomaniac, female dragon," George continued with an awe-filled tone.

"That thinks the same of _humans_ as Hagrid does of _magical creatures!?"_ Ginny finished in a show of Weasley unity.

" _YES!"_ Harry crowed with laughter. "But that isn't the best part!"

"What could _possibly_ top that?" Hermione asked incredulously, starting to grin despite herself.

"She still cuddles with the same teddy bear Hagrid gave to her three years ago!" Harry finished, grinning ear to ear.

The Gryffindors looked at each other briefly, before falling over themselves, laughing until they struggled to breathe.

* * *

Up in the Headmaster's tower, a much less joyful meeting was taking place.

"Minerva, please, this is completely unreasonable." Dumbledore said for what felt like the third time during the conversation, looking at the list of items he had been handed at the beginning of the meeting.

To his dismay, neither her nor the two house heads flanking her budged an inch. "We've neglected our charges too long, Albus. And if you refuse to properly put plans into effect, we will! Or did you forget Mister Potter saying he would leave if things did not change?"

"Harry-" Dumbledore started before wincing, remembering a cold, angry face telling him to never use that name. "Mister Potter is an overstressed young man that is simply having a hard time coping with the Tournament."

"And that is hardly his fault! No, Albus, these changes WILL take effect. In fact, many already have." Flitwick piped up, looking firmly at the headmaster. "I have already set some of the charms in place in the common rooms."

"I'll grant you, the automatic headcount at the start of curfew is an excellent notion, but this other matter is positively draconian! The Board will never allow it!"

"Interestingly, Albus, the Board of Governors has far less influence than they realize." Pomona Sprout said with a smile. "While they can select and fire the headmaster and other staff if there is sufficient reason, as well as provide extra funding for classes and programs, and occasionally ban or restrict materials and classes if there is reason, there is little they can do in the running of the school. The Heads, Deputy and Headmaster have the most say."

"But this…" Dumbledore started, waving away Sprout's words, making her frown. "This could see promising futures ruined because of a few words said in anger!"

"Hardly so, Albus. The policy clearly says that it will be enacted only happen if spells are fired or physical harm is inflicted upon a student, or in the case of confirmed bullying or abuse."

"As if the brats need any more coddling." Snape grumbled from his chair, set well away from the other heads of house.

"And that brings us to another item on the list." Minerva said, turning to the dour man. "Severus Snape, as of now, you are under probation as a Professor and as Head of House for Slytherin!"

"WHAT!?" the man thundered rising to his feet in fury.

"I took a look at the points register today." Filius Flitwick said, scowling. "And found a rather… interesting trend. Did you know that it records not just the points received and taken, but the _reasons_ for doing so?"

Snape paled slightly as Flitwick flourished a scroll and unfurled it, letting it bounce of the floor. "For points taken; ten for breathing too loudly, five for being an insufferable know-it-all, fifteen for failing to answer questions asked to the class at large, five for poorly chopping ingredients, twenty for being a clumsy oaf, twenty for being an utter dunderhead, twenty-five for not reading an unassigned chapter, fifteen for not perfectly reciting a specific sentence from an assigned chapter, twenty for not cleaning their cauldron in under three minutes…"

The list continued until Dumbledore waved his hands. "Filius, I believe I get it."

"Ah, but we haven't covered the points given. Ten for sharpening a knife, thirty for 'proper mixing posture', ten for 'looking keen', five for dodging an exploding cauldron of another classmate…"

Dumbledore sighed. "Filius you cannot simply cherry-pick individual events…"

"Actually, Headmaster…" Filius smirked, showing the Headmaster the dates at the top of the list. "This was last week."

As Dumbledore sat there with a dumbstruck look, the Charms Master continued. "Funny though... looking at the totals, it seems that Slytherin is often the sole recipient of points during the Professor's classes, to the point where they can gain over fifty in a class period. Over the last ten years, Raven claw has earned only 132 points, Hufflepuff 65, and Gryffindor… five. For 'drawing attention to a dangerous nincompoop.' As for points taken, Slytherin has only had 45 points taken in ten years, followed by 208 in Ravenclaw, 567 in Hufflepuff, and _one thousand, seven hundred and ninety-two_ for Gryffindor!"

Flitwick glanced at a fuming Snape. "Anything you'd like to add, Professor?"

"Every _single_ one of those points was fairly given and taken!" the man bellowed furiously.

Filius snorted in derision and took out _another_ list, just as long as the first. "And on this roll of parchment you will find the detention log and the reasons for them… it makes for entertaining reading, if you can look past the blatant favoritism. And this last one is the kicker." Filius said with a scowl as he slammed a final scroll on the desk, much shorter this time.

"What is this?" Albus asked, almost fearfully as he unrolled the scroll. As he read, however, his eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger.

"That, as you have read, is an analysis of NEWT graduates in the last fifty years." McGonagall said with a steely voice. "Please note 1981 in particular, when Severus took over for Slughorn."

Dumbledore wanted, desperately, to see anything but the stark evidence in front of his own eyes. In the years before Slughorn had left, the NEWT graduation rate had been around eighty percent. In 1981, however, that dropped to sixty. Then fifty the next year. The rate continued to drop over the next seven years, where it now hovered at a measly thirty percent! And apparently, the amount of students enrolling in NEWT potions in the first place had dropped to _three quarters_ of its original number! And since he _knew_ the Ministry had not changed the exams in that time, that meant the only explanation was the teacher.

"I cannot be blamed if the stupid brats cannot handle simple instruction-" Snape started, before gasping in pain as a fist collided with his nose, knocking back into his chair and flipping it onto its back!

The staff all turned to gape at the normally-placid Pomona Sprout, glaring at Snape in fury as he clutched his broken nose. "Every year, Severus Snape! Every year my new puffs, and even some of the older ones come back to the common room crying because of how you treat them in class! Every year I have to console them while knowing you will continue to speak to them horribly for the next seven years of their life! Well, NO MORE!" Sprout hissed, reminding everyone of how dangerous an angry badger is.

Albus Dumbledore was a very old, intelligent man who had been dealing with children for decades. His patience was legendary. But even the most legendary of virtues can strain with such blatant cause.

"Severus." Albus said, not looking up from the list, barely even. "You are hereby placed on probation for no less than three years."

Snape glared at McGonagall. "Headmaster, do not give in to these pointless complaints-"

"SILENCE!"

The word thundered around the office, magic vibrating to the point where all sounds in the room actually dampened for a moment. All four Heads of House looked at Dumbledore in surprise.

"...I trusted you, Severus. When no other would, I _trusted_ you to see to your students. I gave you leeway due to your past, and to atone for my failings when you were attending school. But this… you have ruined countless careers, over some petty childhood grudge?"

"Headmaster, I only accept the best into my NEWT courses, you know that!" Snape blustered.

"And interestingly, sixty-five percent of all such applicants are Slytherin." Flitwick said. "Twenty-five percent are my Claws, while the remaining ten are Hufflepuffs. Perhaps one Gryffindor applicant gets in each year, and they always seem to drop out, giving the reason of teacher bias."

Snape opened his mouth but was quickly cut off by Dumbledore. "The probation stands. Severus Snape will no longer have the ability to give or take points, and all detentions issued will need to be verified by the Heads of the student's respective house. Furthermore!" Dumbledore said pointedly, glaring at Snape as he tried to protest. "Future classes will be randomly audited to ensure proper teaching and safety practices are in effect. In the event they are not, Severus Snape's employment at Hogwarts will be terminated at the end of the relevant school semester."

Dumbledore tiredly placed the scroll down. "Severus, you are dismissed."

Snape's jaw opened and closed for a few moments before he silently left, past the other three Heads of House.

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore. "I warned you, Albus."

"I know, Minerva. It makes it no easier to swallow." he sighed. "I have much to think on."

"And the other policies?" Pomona pressed patiently.

"Are enacted, with my approval. Shall I make the announcements or would you like to, Minerva?"

"I think, with such significant changes, you would be best, Albus." she replied quietly.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Thank you all for bringing this to my attention. Both these policies, and my mistakes." He shifted in his chair. "Now, if you would please see yourselves out, I have much to think over."

* * *

After classes, the Gryffindors spent most of the day discussing what the dragon had told them. Hermione in particular was quite miffed, but Neville pointed out that dragons don't read books, so it probably wouldn't see the point. That mollified her slightly, but not much.

They had visited Hagrid as well, and he had been overjoyed to hear news of Norberta, to the point where he had actually started packing to go visit before remembering it was the middle of the school year, much to the twins' amusement. Harry had left with a promise that he'd write the reserve and ask them if they'd let Hagrid visit.

Harry was a bit nervous about going to the Great Hall for dinner, having blown up at Dumbledore earlier and eaten lunch with the dragon handlers instead (with some house-elf aid). Still, it was futile at this point anyway and as much as he appreciated Dobby, constantly eating in the kitchens was likely to be frowned on.

As he walked into the hall to a few dozen stares, he realized that, now that classes were over for the day, a great number of students would likely be trying to apologize or talk to him.

Indeed, speak of the devil, a few Hufflepuffs led by Susan Bones were walking to the table. To his surprise, and relief, Hermione and Neville blocked their way.

Susan's eyebrows rose in shock, but she stopped in front of them. "Can we talk to Harry?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "That depends. What about?"

"Come off it, Granger." Ernie MacMillan huffed from the back. "You know why we're here."

Neville glared at the young man with such ferocity that all the badgers took a step back. "No, we don't. Because you've all had some very choice words for Harry over the last few weeks."

The Hufflepuff's looked quite ashamed at that, though Susan looked Neville in the eyes. "We want to apologize."

"Let them through guys." Harry sighed, just wanting to eat dinner.

Hermione and Neville slowly sat back down, still glaring. Susan coughed awkwardly and stepped towards Harry, who only glanced up from his food.

"Harry?" Susan said.

"Yeah?" Harry replied neutrally.

"We're sorry we said all those things… t-that we called you a cheat."

"Mm." Harry said, just looking at Susan.

Losing her nerve a little, Susann stammered out. "C-can you f-forgive us, Harry?"

Harry sighed and opened his mouth, about to say 'sure, Susan' and just let it go…

But then he glanced over to where Ron sat.

Then to where Dumbledore was sitting, looking quite melancholy as he picked at his food.

Then to the Slytherins, where so many of the students were still wearing those damn ' _Potter Stinks'_ badges.

"...No."

Hermione turned to look at him in surprise, as did Neville, clearly having both expected a different answer.

"No. I can't forgive you. Not yet, at least." Harry said, his mind working.

Justin Finch-Fletchley piped up from the back. "But you've got to!"

"Why? Other than Cedric, I can't think of a single one of you that really tried to make things up to me."

"But we're apologizing!" Hannah Abbot spoke up next to Susan.

"So?" Harry shrugged. "I already forgave you all once, and you just turned on me despite me assuring you otherwise. My word should have been enough!"

"What are you talking about!?" Justin shouted angrily.

Harry rose from the table with an angry growl. "Lockhart's duelling club, second year, when I saved _your_ judgemental arse from a pissed-off venomous snake, _JUSTIN!_ "

The boy in question paled and rocked back on his heels as Harry glared at the badgers. "I was _saving_ your housemate, and the first thing you all do is go around school crying about how I _must_ be a dark wizard. I had to endure _months_ of whispers, insults, shunning and even _hexes and curses_ before you pulled your bloody heads out of your arses, and only after you got proof I wasn't commanding Slytherin's Monster!" he barked angrily.

"I forgave you all at the end of the year. I'm like that. I don't like shunning people or arguing or… any of that." Harry sighed, before glaring again. "But you didn't learn! Even when I'm saying I didn't enter, even when I say I don't want to compete, even when I'm helping out Cedric with the First Task, you all decide to start wearing those badges!"

The Hufflepuffs winced as one and had trouble looking at Harry. "W-we just wanted our house to be recognized…"

"And I want to be just Harry, none of this Boy-Who-Lived crap, but no-one seems to care about what I want." Harry growled before shaking his head. "You know what, I'm not wasting any more time on this."

"W-wait!" Susan said pleadingly. "H-how can we earn your forgiveness?"

"Why bother, Sue, he's just a stuck-up ponce-" Ernie MacMillan started before suddenly facing five wands from Hermione, Neville, Ginny and the twins.

"You've got some nerve saying that, MacMillan." Ginny hissed. "After everything I heard you say about Harry!"

Harry shook his head. "He's not worth it, Ginny." As Ginny and the others slowly put their wands down, Harry looked at Susan. "If you all really want to earn forgiveness, _show_ me you actually learned your lesson this time. Show some of that 'Hufflepuff loyalty' you supposedly have. Because other than Cedric, I haven't seen much of it."

With that he sat down, and the other Gryffindors did as well. Susan and the other Hufflepuffs retreated to their table, some with tears in their eyes.

"...Harry?" Hermione asked softly.

"I'm fine." he sighed. "Just… if I keep telling them it's okay and I forgive them, why would they learn not to do it? I can't just keep giving them all second chances."

"I get it." Neville replied as he loaded up his plate. "I can think of some who I'd say the same to…"

The Gryffindor group sat in silence through their meal, none really feeling up to conversation after the scene.

Their reverie was broken by a call from the head table. "Attention please."

The students turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing, his usual grandfatherly expression gone. "Due to concerns over school discipline and safety over the last few days, I spoke with Mister Potter and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall this morning."

Harry's eyes snapped to Dumbledore's, but he relaxed as he continued; "Several concerns were brought up, which the Deputy Headmistress investigated with the aid of the Heads of House. They then came to me with their findings and thus, Hogwarts will be immediately enacting several changes in policy."

Dumbledore flicked his wand and a parchment unfurled in the air in front of him. "Firstly, the House Cup is declared defunct for this year. As Neville Longbottom so emphatically pointed out, the points matter little to the students. We will be revising this, and aim to have a new system in place at the beginning of the spring term."

That brought a few surprised looks, but far more agreeing nods from those in the hall. "Secondly, as the disgraceful display from several of our students against Mister Potter and others has come to our attention, the staff will now be enforcing a very low-tolerance bullying policy." he intoned gravely. "Any student found bullying another, on top of the points that will be taken from their house and detentions assigned, will have their wand privileges _revoked_ outside of classes and specific study periods for one week."

That brought a great deal of protest, but a glare from McGonagall settled the hall quickly. "A second infraction will be the same for one _month_ , and the parents of the aggressor will be notified. A _third_ infraction, should any be so foolish, will result in a one-month _suspension_ from the school." Dumbledore said, causing many (including Harry) to cause their mouths to flop open in abject astonishment.

"And finally… for those who do so _yet_ _again,_ for a fourth time bullying other students, they will be _expelled_ and forced to seek their education elsewhere."

The room exploded into shouts, whispers and even a few smiles. Many students across the hall looked quite worried, particularly at Slytherin table. Harry glanced over and noticed with glee that Malfoy was doing a passable imitation of a hooked fish.

"Students may appeal and submit memory evidence, but if they are found to be wasting time they will be rewarded with extra detentions. All infractions previous to tonight will not be included due to no student known of the consequences… but now you are informed and cannot beg ignorance." Dumbledore said gravely. "Thirdly, to assist all Heads of House and prefects, charms are being laid on the common rooms to count the students at curfew." Most of the upper-years groaned at that. "That is all for now, but we will be making further changes as the year progresses. Thank you."

Dumbledore sat back down, and looked over to Harry. The pair held each other's gaze for a moment before Harry gave a slow nod, turning back to his food.

"What do you all think?" Ginny asked, still looking impressed.

"It's brilliant!" Hermione squealed. "I've always thought they should do something like this!"

"The twins will need to cut back though." Neville pointed out.

"What? We aren't bullies!" Fred protested.

Neville raised an eyebrow.

"...Er… though maybe we could afford to scale back our efforts." George admitted.

"What do you think, Harry?"

Harry looked at the staff table, then around the hall to the students who looked concerned… and the ones who seemed to snort in derision. "I think we'll have to wait and see if they back up their words tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the weird-as-hell formatting error earlier!

In any case, ta-da! New chapter! Don't expect much more, I'm job searching at the moment and free time, while greater than before, is still quite limited.

So, Dumbledore is finally being brought around a bit. I've always liked Dumbledore, despite my love of Dumbledore-bashing fics (see Dumbledore's Secret for a hint at why) and in this fic he is NOT evil, just misguided, flawed and somewhat manipulative, which is an excellent quality to have in a school full of hormonal teenagers with potentially lethal weaponry. I'm just playing up his biggest flaw, that he sees the best in people even if they are atrocious and acts foolishly because he's a romantic.

And Ron, if you can't tell, is slowly going to be written out most likely. I've never been an enormous Ron fan, but I do like him. That said, he needs to grow up a lot in Fourth Year especially, and I think Harry would break with him like many of us break with friends from elementary school as we move on.

In any case, read, review, rejoice! I think I'll be posting more stories and such that I've been working on soon, though several aren't Harry Potter related.


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